Giles Hopkins

Name: Giles Hopkins
Born: 1609, England
Died: 1690, Massachusetts
Related through: Lynn Crookston

Giles Hopkins was the eldest son of Stephen Hopkins of Plymouth. He was born in England, and came over with his father's family in the Mayflower in 1620. Along with the other members of his father's family, he survived the first winter's sickness, which swept off so many of that company. Of his boyhood days, but little appears.

He appeared to have been of a retiring disposition, only forward when duty compelled. In 1637, the Pequots, a tribe of brave Indians inhabiting the eastern part of Connecticut, commenced war with the English in that region.Plymouth Colony concluded to send a company to assist in the overthrow of the Indians, so Giles, with his [Hopkins-2|father]] and younger brother Caleb, volunteered to go out in the company in the defense of his Connecticut neighbors. Happily for the company, before they were ready to go forth, the troops, under Captain Mason, had 'vanquished' the enemy, and the company was not needed.

The next year, Stephen Hopkins was allowed by the Old Colony court 'to erect a house at Mattacheese,' now Yarmouth, 'to cut hay there' and 'to winter his cattle.' It is supposed his son, Giles, went down there and had charge of his cattle. The permission given to Stephen in 1638, however, to build a house on the Cape specified that he was not to permanently leave Plymouth. It was not until 1639 that the Plymouth Colony Court authorized a permanent settlement in Yarmouth. At any rate, Giles was in Yarmouth in 1639, and with Hugh Tilley and Nicholas Sympkins, 'deposed' to the last will and testament of Peter Warden, the elder, deceased.

Marriage and Adulthood
While in Yarmouth, Giles cultivated the acquaintance of a young lady by the name of Catherine Whelden, supposed daughter of Gabriel Wheldon, and was married to her, October 9, 1639. They soon became the occupants of the first house (as is supposed) "built by the English on the Cape below Sandwich." Its location, says Swift's History of Old Yarmough, "was in a field belonging to Capt. Charles Basset, about 75 yards northwesterly from the house of Mr. Joseph Hale."

The house he occupied while a resident of Yarmouth stood a little to the northwest on the declivity or knoll. It is believed by Mr.Amos Otis to have been the first house built below Sandwich, and certainly it must have been, if it were the one built by Stephen Hopkins by order of Plymouth court. Mr. Otis, in his account of Andrew Hallett, Jr., says it was sold by Giles Hopkins in 1642 to Mr. Hallett.

It would seem that Mr. Hopkins was not a resident of Yarmouth in 1643, as his name does not appear in the list of those able to bear arms that year in the township, but evidence is quite conclusive that he was a resident June 6, 1644. At that date his father made his will, and several times speaks of Giles being at Yarmouth in charge of the cattle. It is probable he was not enrolled on account of being physically unable to do military duty.

Later, the town of Nauset was founded just beyond Yarmouth. Among the founders was Giles Hopkins’ brother-in-law Nicholas Snow. By 1650, Giles had also settled in Nauset (which was to change its name the following year to Eastham). In what year he removed to Nausett, or Eastham, is not known. He was there in 1650, occupying the position of surveyor of highways, which he subsequently occupied several years. For some reason, now inexplicable, his father, by will, made Caleb, his younger son by Elizabeth Fisher Hopkins, the 'heir apparent,' and consequently the whole of the real estate, which was large, passed into the hands of Caleb upon Stephen's death. Caleb Hopkins, soon after his father's death in July, 1644, gave up a very large tract of land to Giles, his only surviving brother, located in what is now Brewster.

Upon the death of Caleb, who was a seaman, and who died single at Barbadoes before 1657, Giles came into possession of several large tracts of land. In 1659, Mr. Hopkins had land granted him in Eastham. In 1662, with Lieut. Joseph Rogers and Josiah Cooke, he had liberty allowed him by the Colony court to look out for land for his accommodation between Bridgewater and Bay Line. In 1672, with Jonathan Sparrow and Thomas Mayo of Eastham, he purchased Sampson's Neck in what is now Orleans, then called by the Indians 'Weesquamseutt.' The tract was a valuable one; it embraced the territory between Higgin's river on the north, and Potonumecot river on the south.

Giles seems to have been a very quiet man, caring but little for public positions. He was in 1654 drawn into a lawsuit by the noted William Leveridge, who had defamed him. Mr. Hopkins claimed damages to the amount of 50 pounds. Mr. Leveridge was ordered to pay 2 pounds and some shillings for the offense.

Family
According to records, Mr. Hopkins had 10 children.
The following are the names of the children of Giles Hopkins with the dates of birth as they appear in the ancient book of records at Orleans:

1.Mary, born in November, 1640 (married Samuel Smith)
2.Stephen, born in September 1642
3.John, born in 1643 "and died being three months old."
4.Abigail, born in October, 1644
5.Deborah, born in June, 1648 (married Josiah Cooke, Jr.)
6.Caleb, born in January, 1650
7.Ruth, born in June, 1653
8.Joshua, born in June, 1657
9.William, born January 9, 1660
10.Elizabeth, born in November, 1664, died aged one month.

Death
The latter years of Mr. Hopkins' life were of weakness, so much so that he was not able "to provide for" his and his wife's support, and he agreed with Stephen, his son, to take all of his "stock and moveable estate" to use for his and his wife's comfortable support. The exact date of Mr. Hopkins' death is not now known, but there is reason to believe it occurred the latter part of March or early part of April, 1690. The time of the death of his wife, Catherine, is also unknown. She was alive in March, 1689.

Article from Wikitree. Thanks to whoever put it there.

Thomas Pitkin

• Name: Thomas Pitkin
• Born: June 18, 1700 Bolton, Connecticut
• Died: July 20, 1766 Bolton, Connecticut
• Related through: Lynn Crookston

Captain Thomas Pitkin at the age of 21 was one of the incorporators of the town of Bolton in 1720 (Hollister's Connecticut, Vol. !, p. 388).  An act granting a patent for the town of Bolton by Thomas Pitkin and others.  He was commissioned Lieutenant of the militia company of Bolton in 1737; Captain in 1739; Justice of the Peace from 1751 to 1756.  He represented Bolton in the General Assembly in 1755 and 1756.  By his will he manumitted his three slaves.

Thanks to whoever put this history on familysearch.org.

William Pitkin IV

• Name: William Pitkin IV
• Born: About 1664 East Hartford, Connecticut
• Died: April 5, 1723, East Hartford, Connecticut
• Related through: Dan's grandfather Lynn Crookston

William Pitkin was educated by his father in his profession of the law. He was judge of the county and probate courts and court of the assistants from 1702 to 1711. Upon the establishment of the Superior Court in 1711, he was appointed judge of that court, and in 1713 he was made Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. He represented Hartford in the General Assembly in 1696. In 1697 he was elected one of the Council of the Colony, and was annually reelected for 26 years till his death (see Trumbull's History of Conn., ''. 425, 469, 477).

He was one of the commissioners to receive the Earl of Belmont on his arrival in New York. He was Commissioner of War in 1706 and 1707 (Col. Rec., p. 535). He was one of the committee to prepare the manuscript laws of the colony in 1709; also was on the committee for the revision of said laws (Col. Rec., Vol. V. p. 479). In 1718 he was appointed on of a committee of three, by the General Assembly to build the first State House in the Colony at Hartford (Col. Rec., Vol. VI, pp. 157 and 197).

He was also one of a committee to procure a map of the course of the Connecticut River from the "mouth of it to the north bounds of this Colony, to be inserted in the plan of the Colony now ordered to be drawn." He was a military officer in the company of his brother Roger.

He is said to have been no less able in repartee than in argument.  Being once opposed in a case by Mr. Eels, a brother lawyer, who in summing up the case, thinking he had the better of Mr. Pitkin, said "The Court will perceive that the pipkin is cracked." His instant reply was, "Not so much cracked, your honor, but he will find it will do to stew eels in yet."

Although so much engaged in his professional business, he had previous to 1706 built two mills at Pitkin Falls in connection with which he carried on a large business in clothings and woolens. These mills were bequeathed to his sons, William and Joseph, who succeeded him in the business. His son William went on to become the Governor of Connecticut.

Article came from familysearch.org. Thanks to whoever put it there.

Stephen Hopkins

• Stephen Hopkins 
• Born: April 30, 1581 (Christened)  Upper Clatfor, Hampshire, England
• Died: between June 6, 1644 and July 17, 1644
• Related through: Dan's grandfather Lynn Crookston

The son of John Hopkins and Elizabeth Williams. He was a tanner and merchant who was one of the passengers on the Mayflower in 1620, settling in Plymouth Colony. Hopkins was recruited by the Merchant Adventurers to provide the governance for the colony as well as assist with the colony's ventures. Hopkins was one of forty-one signatories of the Mayflower Compact and was an assistant to the governor of the colony through 1636.

Mayflower in Plymouth Harbor by William Halsall (1882)

Not much is known about his early life in Hampshire, but his family appears to have removed to Winchester, Hampshire by 1586. His father died there in 1593, and by 1604 he had moved to Hursley, Hampshire and was married to a woman named Mary. Their three children, Elizabeth, Constance and Giles were baptized at Hursley between 1603/4 and 1607/8.
In early 1609 Stephen Hopkins began employment as a minister’s clerk, reading religious works to a congregation including members of the Virginia Company. 

On June 2, 1609 Hopkins left his wife and family and in his ministerial clerk‘s position, departed for Jamestown in Virginia on the 300-ton Sea Venture, flagship of a flotilla lead by Sir George Somers. The Sea Venture was carrying the new Jamestown governor, Sir Thomas Gates, to his post as well as resupplying the colony with goods and new settlers. Recent scholarship believes that this is the same Stephen Hopkins who was the only Mayflower passenger who had previously been to the New World and that Hopkins had adventures that included surviving a shipwreck in Bermuda and working from 1610–14 in Jamestown as well as possibly knowing the legendary Pocahontas, who married John Rolfe, a fellow Bermuda castaway.


After almost two months into the voyage, a severe storm separated the ships of the flotilla on July 24, 1609, and by evening the storm began raging worse and lasted for five days. Just when the Sea Venture was about to sink from storm damage, “land” was called out with that being the island of Bermuda. The ship was forced to run itself aground about mile off-shore to keep from sinking. The castaways soon found that Bermuda was a Paradise, with plentiful water and food.
On September 1, 1609, a month after the shipwreck and after they had built up their ship’s longboat for an ocean voyage, they sent eight men out to try to reach Jamestown, Virginia to get help but they never returned.


In late November 1609, commenced construction of boats enough to take everyone off the island. By January 1610, even though Stephen Hopkins had remained with Governor Gate’s group, he starting voicing dissatisfaction to the governance of Thomas Gates and questioning his authority.
 Hopkins was arrested and charged with mutiny and was found guilty for which the sentence was death. Many persons begged mercy for him and he obtained a pardon. Hopkins ceased voicing controversial issues.


The English in Jamestown and those later in Plymouth were the antithesis of each other — with those in Virginia composed of titled leaders who were in charge of often inexperienced settlers and soldiers who were veterans of European wars, such as Capt. John Smith. All at Jamestown were focused on returning a profit to their London investors, and under great stress when no gold, minerals or anything else of much value to London was found in the Chesapeake area. The colonists could not/would not farm, tried to barter for food with the Indians and later stole food from them, leading to much violence, which continued for years.


On May 10, 1610, the two newly constructed boats departed Bermuda with all on board and arrived at Jamestown in Virginia eleven days later. What they found there was that the colonists in Jamestown were starving to death due to their inability and in some cases unwillingness to produce food. They were afraid to go outside their fort so were tearing down their houses for firewood. They were not planting crops, nor trading with the Indians or catching fish. Much of this had to do with some settlers feeling it was beneath their dignity to work and the violent abuse they gave the local Indians which caused much enmity towards the English. 

At his arrival from Bermuda, Governor Gates estimated there was only days worth of food left, and decided to voyage to Newfoundland and from there find a ship heading for England. Just as they were preparing to depart, an English ship came into the harbor with supplies and new settlers along with a new governor, Lord de la Warr. The colonists were forced to return and reestablish their fort, albeit reluctantly.


In England, William Shakespeare first presented “The Tempest” in November 1611, which is about a group of passengers being shipwrecked by a mighty storm in Bermuda. A subplot involves a character which could have been based on Stephen Hopkins.


Back in England, Stephen’s wife Mary has survived by being a shopkeeper as well as receiving some of Stephen’s wages. But she unexpectedly died in May 1613, leaving her three young children all alone. By 1614, a letter arrived for a "Hopkins" in Jamestown and it is presumed that this is how he learned of her death, as he did return to England soon afterward to care for his children.
 He then took up residence in London, and there married his second wife Elizabeth Fisher.


Although he had been through all manner of hardships and trials in the New World, including shipwreck, sentenced to death with a last-minute pardon, went to Jamestown, Virginia where he labored for several years, possibly having known Pocahontas, who married one of his fellow Bermuda castaways, John Rolf. When he learned of the planned Mayflower voyage to Northern Virginia to establish a colony, he signed on to go to America.

The Mayflower Compact, a painting byJean Leon Gerome Ferris
which was widely reproduced through much of the 20th century

Stephen Hopkins departed Plymouth, England on the Mayflower on September 6/16, 1620. The small, 100-foot ship had 102 passengers and a crew of about 30-40 in extremely cramped conditions. By the second month out, the ship was being buffeted by strong westerly gales, causing the ship‘s timbers to be badly shaken with caulking failing to keep out sea water, and with passengers, even in their berths, lying wet and ill. This, combined with a lack of proper rations and unsanitary conditions for several months, attributed to what would be fatal for many, especially the majority of women and children. On the way there were two deaths, a crew member and a passenger, but the worst was yet to come after arriving at their destination when, in the space of several months, almost half the passengers perished in cold, harsh, unfamiliar New England winter.

On November 9/19, 1620, after about three months at sea, including a month of delays in England, they spotted land, which was the Cape Cod Hook, now called Provincetown Harbor. And after several days of trying to get south to their planned destination of the Colony of Virginia, strong winter seas forced them to return to the harbor at Cape Cod hook, where they anchored on November 11/21. The Mayflower Compact was signed that day.

Stephen Hopkins was a member of the early Mayflower exploratory parties while the ship was anchored in the Cape Cod area. As he was well-versed in the hunting techniques and general lifestyle of American Indians from his years in Jamestown Virginia, which was later found to be quite useful to the Pilgrim leadership.

The first formal meeting with the Indians was held at Hopkins’ house and he was called upon to participate in early Pilgrim visits with the Indian leader Massasoit. Over the years Hopkins assistance to Pilgrims leaders such as Myles Standish and Edward Winslow regarding his knowledge of the local Indian languages was found to be quite useful.

This article was taken from the Wikipedia article about Stephen Hopkins. Thanks Wikipedia!

Rosabell Pitkin

• Name: Rosabell Pitkin
• Born: June 27, 1863 Millville, Cache, Utah
• Died: April 23, 1940 Hyrum, Cache, Utah
• Related through: Dan's grandfather Lynn Crookston

Newspaper obituary obtained from the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers museum.

Mrs. Rosabell Pitkin Crookston, 76, widow of Robert Crookston Jr., died at the home of a daughter, Mrs. Dalton M. Reid of Hyrum, Tuesday afternoon after a long illness. Mrs. Crookston resided in Logan at 434 West Second South Street, but recently had been living with her daughter.

She was born at Millville, June 27, 1863, a daughter of Ammon and Olive Chase Pitkin. She was married in the old Salt Lake LDS Endowment House in 1878. Her husband died in May 1928. After leaving Millville, Mrs. Crookston lived in Rexburg, Idaho for six years before coming to Logan where she resided for 48 years.

Active in the LDS Church she worked in the Logan LDS Second Ward for the past 40 years. Mrs. Crookston served with the Relief Society for more than 30 years and had worked in the Logan LDS temple for 40 years. During the World War she was a member of the work committee of the Red Cross and received national recognition for her work. She had three sons serving in France during the war.

Byron Crookston

• Name: Byron Crookston
• Born: June 22, 1893 Logan, Utah
• Died: June 9, 1976 Logan, Utah
• Related through: Dan's grandfather Lynn Crookston

I, Byron Crookston, was born June 22, 1893, at Logan, Utah. My parents were Robert Crookston, Jr. and Rosabell Pitkin. I was the sixth child in my father's family of ten children, six boys and four girls.

My parents were very poor. Father worked in Logan Canyon in the timber, getting out logs and sold them to the saw mills for very little money. We never owned a home, but always had to pay very little rent. We didn't have much furniture and our food was mostly home grown, as father had a large garden. We always had a cow, so we had our own milk and butter.

When I was about eleven years old, my father bought a lot on 434 West 2rd South in Logan. My father and older brothers got the logs from the canyon and had them sawed into lumber and built a four room house with two bedrooms upstairs and two rooms down. There was a large shanty attached to the house. There was a dirt covered near the back door. In those days very few had bathrooms or city water. We carried water from a ditch by the front gate.

I attended Logan City schools. My first teachers' name was Miss Rose Jones. I liked school but thought I had to stay indoors too much.

When quite young, I used to go thin beets for fifty cents a day. On Saturdays and in the summertime I used to work at Bordens Condenced Milk Factory for a dollar a day. It was located close to my home. I also worked there when I attended the Agricultural College, for 35 cents an hour. The summers of 1909 and 1910, I worked in Thatcher's Flour Mill for 1.75 a day ten hours a day. I earned my own way through school. The registration fee was from $11.00 to $15.00 a quarter. I first took carpentry, and later subjects leading to forestry.

The summers of 1911 to 1914 I worked for the Cache National Forest, mainly in Logan Canyon, on roads and trails, telephone lines and bridges. In the spring of 1915, Charley Goodman and I went to San Francisco and the San Diego Worlds Fair. We went on the train. The winter previously we had run a shooting gallery and saved our money for this trip.

Later in the summer Charley and I made a trip with team and buckboard from Logan to Burnes Oregon, looking for homesteads. Early in 1916, Charley Goodwin and I moved to San Juan County in Utah and filed on a homestead near La Salle while I worked for the General Land Office Survey, surveying the Utah-Colorado border.

In the fall of 1914, I took an examination for forest ranger and passed. In the spring of 1917, I got a job as forest ranger on the Caribou National Forest in Idaho with headquarters in Montpelier. This district included Montpelier, Red Mountain, Wells Canyon, and Georgetown.

I used to stay at the Alleman Ranch on Crow Creek overnight. The Alleman’s ran a dairy, milking 75 to 80 cows, and made Swiss cheese. The place became quite an interesting spot for me as there was a young girl who kept house for her father and two brothers.

A married brother, Abraham, and his family lived just across the creek from their house. Emeline milked about 25 cows night and morning and was a good worker. She was also a clean housekeeper. Whenever they worked out with the animals in the corral, they would change to old clothes, and Emeline would wear a man's old hat since they lean their head against the cow as they milk. She never wore jeans or pants, but an old dress. She was too timid to let me see her in these old things, so she would get dressed in them, and then crawl out a back window and beat it for the corral. I never liked to milk cows, so I usually managed to stay away from the corral. One time I was going to be nice and help her. However, I was so slow that she milked ten cows while I was still on the first one. This was enough for me.

Since there were very few cars at that time, it was hard for them to get away from the ranch. I had two saddle ponies, so we would often go for a ride. Our love for each other increased rapidly.

The first part of September in 1917, I left the Forest Service and joined the army. On October 13th Emeline left for a mission in the Northern States. I went to Washington, D.C. to the American University and took military training there for about three months. On New Year’s Eve, I sailed for France with the Tenth Engineers Battalion.

There were 10,000 soldiers on that ship. This was the largest ship at that time, it was called The America. It took 11 days to cross the ocean and arrive at Brest, France. I stayed in the harbor 3 or 4 days, then went on the train to Blois, France. We camped there for about a month, then went about 50 miles south of Bourdeaux. A saw mill was set up and I worked in the timber for about a year. On New Years Eve of 1919, we left by train for Brest, France, and camped there for a few days before sailing for the United States.

When we first heard about the armistice, it was a week early and a false alarm. There were no radios, but passed from one fellow to the other. At the news we all quit working and went back to camp. But we didn't just sit around talking as there was plenty to do. We had over a 100 horses to take care of. The next day we all went back to work. When the real armistice was announced a week later, we didn't believe it, but just went right on working.

On the way home, we stopped at the Azores for two days to take on coal. Then we went on to Newport News, Virginia. We stayed at Camp Funston in Kansas for a few days where I was mustered out of the army February 14, 1919. My train was delayed a few days on account of deep drifts of snow. I arrived in Logan the 20th of February. The severe epidemic of influenza was raging in Cache Valley, and everything was closed for public gatherings except the Temple.

On Mar 12, 1919, Emeline and I were married in the Logan Temple by President Joseph R. Shephard. We lived at Brigham City at Aunt Mary Farmer's two room house for several months. I had a job there as a guard for the railroad. I was paid $4.00 a day. Later we moved to Logan and rented a house on 5th North for $13.00 a month. We went to the temple often.

Our first baby was born January 4, 1920 on a Sunday afternoon about 4:00 P.M. We were so happy and proud to be parents of such a darling baby boy. We named him Lynn Byron.

In May of 1920, we bought a shabby little place on 340 North 3rd East where we are still living. We worked hard to clean up the lot and fix up the house so it was fit to live in. We always had a nice garden of all kinds of vegetables and beautiful flowers.

Our second baby was born the same year as the first, On December 30, 1920. His name is George Warren. Lynn didn't walk until he was 14 months old, so they were almost like twins, since George walked at 11 months.

My brother Bob and I worked together as plumbers. Bob owned a small truck, and we made barely enough to exist. There wasn't much building going on at that time so it was all repairs.

On June 29, 1922, our third baby was born, another son. We named him Ray Benjamin. He was such a good little baby.

Our two rooms were getting too crowded for our family, so we built on two bedrooms and a bathroom. We did most of the work ourselves. My wife was a good worker and she helped me with everything. I also helped her with the house work. When our house was finished, we were quite comfortable and happy.

Our fourth baby came and we were so happy to have a little girl. We named her Lola. I remember Lynn said one time to his mother as she was holding baby Lola, "Aren't you glad no one else got her?" She was born August 24, 1923.

On January 17, 1927 we were again blessed with a lovely baby boy. He seemed to be very healthy. Our other children had the measles and we think he got them and it affected his heart. He died when he was 12 days old. We were very sad, as we surely all loved him dearly. We had a little funeral here at our home. Uncle Nick gave a comforting talk.

Two and a half years later, on June 29.1929 on Ray's seventh birthday our sweet little girl Donna came to bless our home. We were very happy to have another little girl. My wife had all our babies at home. Dr. Eliason was our doctor. The cost was $35.00 each time. Her sister Sarah took care of her the first few days. Mrs. Bird was with us when Donna was born. Along in March, our children had Scarlet Fever and we were quarantined. I went to a Veterans Hospital in Boise, Idaho for a hernia operation, and was gone two weeks.

In 1933, I went to work in a Civilian Conservation Corp Camp in Logan Canyon from April 1 to November. In 1934, I went off to Mt. Nebo district for the CCC works for #30.00 a month, plus board and clothes. My wife and children managed to live on the small sum without going into debt, with a good garden and groceries that were much cheaper then. We bought our milk for 5 cents a quart, margarine for 16 cents a pound, and peanut butter for about 15 cents a pound.

From November of 1933 to April of 1934, I worked in Black Smith Fork Canyon for the Forest Service, making camp tables and guarding the place. I was paid $75.00 a month. Then I worked with Bob about two years, and took out my own plumbing license. Later when my boys were old enough, they helped me and we had enough work so the boys didn't have to look for other jobs. In April 1941, I started to work for the Agricultural College. I worked in the boiler room for five years, then started to do plumbing repair, heating and other pipe fitting jobs. I worked there for fifteen years.

In 1955, I had two major operations. The one was for the prostate gland, and the other came two weeks later when a tumor was removed inside the spinal cord. I was in the Verteran’s Hospital in Salt Lake City for about three months. My folks came to see me quite often; even Ray and his daughter Gail came from Independence, Missouri and were here for Thanksgiving. I suffered terrible pain at times, but was always helped when administered to. Since my operation, I haven't been able to work.

When a young boy, I would go ice skating on the canal near home, and skiing on the foot hills. In the summer, I would go fishing in the river. When I was seventeen I shot my first deer. In 1922 they closed the season for five years to build up the herd. I didn't go hunting until about 1925, but haven't missed hunting except two or three years since. I usually shot a deer and it supplied us with winter meat. For about twenty years I worked in scouting. For many years I went with the Bridger men on trips to the Salmon River, Yellowstone Park, and the Windriver Mountains. The group numbered from 35 to 100. I always enjoyed the trips, especially when my sons could go along. In 1957, my grandson David went along. We went to the Windriver Mountains. We had buses take us as far as Pine Dale, then by truck to higher elevations. This is the first time I used a saddle horse on these trips. In 1952, I went with the College Summer School to Yellowstone. We camped on the southeast arm of Yellowstone Lake. There were about thirty six of us.

All my formal schooling was in Logan, Utah where I grew up and lived most of my life. The first were grade schools, the Woodruff, Ellis, and Ballard. There were no junior high or high school as we have now, but the grade schools were about eight years. Then we went on to the Agricultural College. I would register in the fall and pay my tuition each quarter, but about April each year I would run out of money to live on, and go out and get a job. The only ones who certified to get a diploma were usually the school teachers, anyway. Most of my classes were leading up to forestry. When I did get a job with the Forest Service, I took the Civil Service examination and passed it. I did go to the college most of four years, but never got a degree. Most of my life I worked as a plumber after I left the Forest Service.

My first position in leadership was as a counselor in my Deacon's Quorum in the 2nd Ward in Logan. Then I became a Ward Teacher, and did this along with other jobs for over fifty years. In the 5th Ward High Priest's Quorum I was Assistant Group Leader, and was on the Genealogy Committee. For many years I worked in scouting and went on many trips with my sons and their friends. For forty years I did temple endowments each year, then after I retired in 1962 I did more. The summer of 1962 I became a Temple worker, checking the men’s rolls.

I have been in France, Canada, Mexico, Hawaii and 36 of the states. Since we were married, we have been on several nice trips together. In October, 1944 Lynn drove Emeline and me to Sioux Falls, South Dakota where Ray and Marvel were stationed at the air base during World War 11. There we saw our first granddaughter, Marnita, who was a year old and just learning to walk. We stayed there about a week and came home on the bus, since Lynn drove on to Ann Arbor, Michigan where he was attending dental school. The bus went to Sioux City, Iowa, Omaha, Kansas City and Independence, Missouri where we visited Marvel's parents.

In July 1951 we went with George and his wife Virginia to Yellowstone. In 1952 we went to Grand Canyon and Las Vegas and Manti. In August of 1953, we went with a group of temple workers to the Palmyra Pageant in New York for a 19 day trip by bus. We visited Lynn at Tohatchi, New Mexico where he was in the Public Health Service doing dental work among the Indians. In September 1955 we went with the temple workers again on a tour of the temples in Manti, St. George and Mesa. We visited Clem and Carl, my brothers in Mesa. It was extremely hot. We also had a wonderful trip by plane to Hawaii with the temple workers and toured the islands there. We have many pages of interesting reading about our trips with the temple workers.

Emeline died August 11, 1975. Grandpa was lonely but kept the home so nice and tried to keep it a welcoming place for us. One morning Grandpa didn't show up at the temple for his assignment. He was never late so the workers were concerned. They called his grandson, Gregory Jenkins who was living in the basement. He went up stairs and Grandpa was in bed, he just peacefully slept and had joined Grandma in death, June 9, l976, just eight months after she had gone.

Thanks to Grandma Melva for providing this history for us.

Emeline Allemann

• Name: Emeline Allemann
• Born: June 16, 1890 Bern, Bear Lake, Idaho
• Died: August 11, 1975 Logan, Cache, Utah
• Related through: Dan's grandfather Lynn Crookston

Emeline was born June 16, 1890 in Bern, Bear Lake County, Idaho to George Allemann Sr. and Anna Maria Gredig.

My earliest recollection was when I was about three years old. Mother had a large wooden cradle. I recall my brother George rocking me to sleep by singing "Now Let Us Rejoice in the Day of Salvation."

When I was five years old, my brother Edwin was born. One afternoon, which was the 7th of September, Sarah went with Matthew, Annie and myself with my older brothers down in the south bend where they were building a fence. When we came home Mother had, to our surprise, a little new baby boy. A midwife had delivered him.

In the fall of 1899 my parents prepared with much rejoicing to go to the Logan Temple and have their endowments and their nine living and three deceased children sealed to them. I recall well how we went in three covered wagons down Mink Creek Canyon. We stayed with an old couple by the name of Latterman on Fifth North Street in Logan. They were very nice to us. They had fruit trees. I recall Mother was afraid we would eat too many blue plums.

The 11th of October, 1899, I guess was about the happiest day of Mother's life. We all went to the Temple and were sealed as one family. On our way home it had snowed in the canyon and the road was muddy. It was hard for the horses to pull the load, so we had to get out and walk up the steepest hills. We didn't have galoshes, so Mother put some heavy homemade men's socks over our shoes.

We lived in lower Bern, about two miles from the meeting house. It was only a one room meetinghouse which was also used for our schoolhouse from the first to the eighth grades. I started school when I was six and was very thrilled with it. I loved to read from the big chart at the front of the room, John T. Rigby was my teacher. Our neighbors, the Buehler and Bienz families, and we would ride in one big bob sleigh to school. There were about ten or twelve of us. We had lots of fun.

I remember the day I was baptized. It was Sunday afternoon on May 20, 1899, in upper Bern in an irrigation canal. There were quite a number of others baptized that day.

My parents were immigrants from Switzerland and lived in poor circumstances. They had four small children. One died in Switzerland before they left. The others were J. Peter , Sarah, and Abraham. Abe had a hard time to survive on the three week trip on the ship. They came as far as Evanston, Wyoming by train, from there on a wagon. The driver was partly drunk, so gave them a rough ride. They first went to Nounan and worked in a dairy. Later they moved to Bern and homesteaded the place where Edwin now lives. They built a one room log cabin with a dirt roof and floor. There several babies were born.

My father's sister came with them from Switzerland. Aunty Basy, we called her. She is the only relative I ever saw or knew outside of my Father's and Mothers own family. Basy had arthritis ever since she was eighteen years of age. She wasn't married and always lived with my father's family. She was a great help to my mother. She was one of the kindest and sweetest, patient ladies I ever knew.

Mother had twelve of her children with a midwife to assist. When the twins were born, Matthew and Annie, the old dirt roof would leak and my Aunty would hold the umbrella over the bed where the babies lay.

The year before I was born Father hauled logs from the canyon and had them sawed on all four sides and built a house. It is the one that is still on the homestead. At that time, it was by far the best home in Bern. I was the first child born in it, and I am the tenth child.

Father always had enough work for the children and kept them home. In the summer he made Swiss cheese. He didn't have enough feed for the cows, so he went to a small valley twenty miles from Montpelier called Ephraim Valley. There was lots of good feed and water there. He took cows on share from people in Paris and Montpelier and made cheese and gave them half. We milked about fifty or sixty cows daily.

Father took the boys and Sarah to the ranch and Mother always stayed in Bern with the smaller children and took care of the place there. She worked hard as she always had to chase stray cattle out of the meadow and fix fences. When I was about ten or twelve, I too went to the ranch and milked cows. Sarah got married so we hired a girl, Lena Bienz, who was my age, and we kept the house and milked the cows. She was my lifelong friend

Later Father bought Crow Creek, a large ranch where there was plenty of feed for the cattle. My brother Abe homesteaded there and when he got married, lived just across the creek from us. His wife, Lizzie Bueler, Lena and I would go fishing on Crow Creek. This was before automobiles, so there weren't many fishermen around. This was our main sport; we loved to go fishing. We always came home with a good mess of native rainbow trout.

It was too far to go to Sunday School or church, so on a Sunday we would go visit our neighbors about a mile or two away, the Books ranch, the Wells ranch, and the Wilkes at the half-way; or else we had them come visit us.

We had snow in the mountains until about the latter part of June. The boys would ride horseback to get some snow and we made some of the best ice cream you could wish for.

There used to be lots of sheep herders on the forest reserve and there would be sheep men around. They would bring us some mutton. Once in a while we would be invited to a sheep camp for dinner and sometimes their wives stayed with them a couple of weeks.

We would also pick wild berries and strawberries at the edge of the meadow. They were small, but very sweet and good flavored. We could usually get enough for at least a dish. There was a beautiful spring of water a fourth mile from the house where wild gooseberries grew. We also got service berries in the mountains.

Lots of times we would go on a hike with my brother. I recall one time Lena and I had new shoes. We wanted to go to the Snow Drift Mountains west of our house. We could go horseback to the foot of the mountain, then hike to the top. It was a strenuous hike and we almost wore out our shoes. Matthew and Edwin were with us. We always had to be back in time for milking as we each milked about twenty or twenty-five cows.

I recall when the haying season was on and the boys didn't have time to milk. Lena and I milked most of them, one evening I milked forty-three cows. This was the most I ever milked at one time. Father would have calves tied and the cows ready so I could just go from one cow to the other. He would also empty my milk buckets. I think I milked more cows than anyone else.

Father made the best Swiss cheese. In the fall he would always take a wagon load to Logan to sell. He would bring back a load of fruit, mainly apples and pears and some prunes and plums. He always took one of the boys with him. They would be gone about a week. We children would anxiously look for them to come back and run to meet them. Father would pick us up and give us a nice apple. We had shelves in the cellar and we laid them out so as to keep longer. In the evening before we went to bed, Mother would give us all an apple.

We had very little canned fruit. We had a small garden and berries. I remember our Christmases were very meager. The ward had a children's party with a community tree where about one or two presents were hanging on the tree I remember I received a picture album once and another time a pretty cup and saucer. Santa Claus would come and give each their present, also a bag of candy and nuts. Sarah would make us each a new dress for Christmas.

I remember so well my sister Annie, about ten, and I seven, received the first nice doll. An old trapper by the name of Will Adams lived down by the river, who used to come around quite often. He played Santa Claus. He had a big bag on his back and a Santa Claus mask. He liked Sarah and when he came up from the barn, Sarah said, "Oh look, girls! Here comes Santa!" We were so scared we ran and hid under the bed. We bawled and didn't want to see him. But we each got a beautiful, large doll; one dressed in pink and the other in blue.

When my sister Annie was thirteen years of age diphtheria came to our community and very severe cases in our family. It took the lives of my sister Annie and my brother Benny, seven years of age. Annie died on the 17th of June and Benjamin on the 1st of August. Previous to this, in the year 1899, Mother lost two little girls, Elsbeth and Marie, ages six and four, within two weeks apart, from malaria fever. This was before I was born. Mother and Father had lots of hardships, but in all their trials, they would acknowledge the hand of the Lord. They never had a photograph of these girls. I dreamed I saw a photo of them, when I described it in the morning to my mother, she wept.

I guess I was about thirteen or fourteen when I first had dates. I think Ezra Kunz was my first beau and I would go to ward and school dances with him. We went in sled and there were several couples together. We had good times as everybody exchanged partners and everyone danced square dances, waltz, two-step, tucker dance and polkas. The tucker dance was a mixer where someone would clap their hands and the girls would move ahead marching a while and change partners.

Chris Petersen would play the fiddle and someone the piano. Matthew also played the violin, so the orchestra didn't cost much. Young folks from surrounding towns would come to the dances. I had several boyfriends. In the summer of 1917 I met my future husband on Crow Creek.

Byron Crookston was a forest ranger for the Caribou Forest. He stopped at our ranch quite often and I began to think he was a very nice fellow. He was quite timid and so was I, especially when I had to go change my clothes to go milk cows. I would leave him sitting in the front room and I'd go to the laundry room to change. Then I'd crawl out of the back window and out to the corral so he wouldn't see me in the old clothes.

Byron didn't very often come to the corral, but one time he offered to milk. He wasn't used to milking, so was very slow. I guess I milked three cows to his one, so he didn't offer again.

We used to go horseback riding and our love for each other increased. In September of 1917 he had to leave for the Army. We went to Bern together as I wanted my mother to meet him. The next day I saw him off at Montpelier. It was surely hard to part as we both felt we were meant for each other.

I had a call to go on a mission to the Northern States and left home on October 3, 1917. Sarah went with me to Salt Lake City where I went through the Temple and had my endowments. I was set apart for my mission by Apostle Rudgar Clawson. We also attended conference. I left Salt Lake City on October 10, 1917.

It was my first long trip on the train. Bertha Hymas from Bear Lake Stake was going to the Eastern States, so we had a berth together. Chicago was my headquarters. There were six of us lady missionaries and four elders in the company. I stayed in Chicago several days and had district conference. Then I went to Council Bluffs. Sister Ellsworth, the Mission President's wife, went with me.

We had district conference there with ten elders and five lady missionaries. It was the West Iowa Conference. Sister Florence Child and I were assigned to Boone, Iowa. There was a small branch and two elders also labored there. I had the experience of speaking on a street corner and drew a pretty good crowd.

Sister Child was released and left for home on the Dec 7. I was alone for three days, then Eletha Simmons came to be my companion. We went tracting a lot and made lots of friends. One day we witnessed a cyclone. It was one warm summer afternoon. We were out gathering in some of our Books of Mormon as we were to be transferred. Suddenly some dark clouds appeared. We decided to go to Strobel, one of the families of Saints, and do a little sewing. It got almost dark and Sister Strobel hollered, "Oh, a cyclone!"

We looked out of the window and saw timber and stuff flying in the air. We were only about a block away. It lasted only a minute, but blew houses away. It took the porch off the house we had planned to go to, just before we decided to quit.

The Hollomans, a family of Saints with two little children, were in their home which was moved off the foundation over against another house and a huge tree fell where their house had stood. It picked a cow up and carried it a block, but left it unhurt. It only passed through a corner of the town, but destroyed everything in that part.

Another unusual coincidence happened while on my mission. One day as we came in from tracting at noon our landlady said she had heard that a train of soldiers was coming through Boone from the West. My youngest brother, Edwin, was at Camp Lewis in Washington. Sister Simmons and I thought we would go see if anyone we knew could be on it, s the train would stop for about ten minutes.

We watched them line out of the car one by one like cattle. To my happy surprise, here came Edwin. He spied me about the same time I saw him. I heard him say, "Oh here she is." The lieutenant told him to step outside the line and we had a short and enjoyable visit. He was on his way overseas to France.

I labored in Boone, then a short time in DesMoines, Iowa, when I recieved word from my Bishop, Robert Schmid, that my mother was seriously ill. They thought it best for me to come home. This was truly a very hard thing for me to do, as I so much enjoyed my mission and hoped to stay for two years. I only served not quite a year.

I arrived home on August 13, 1918. Mother got well again and was able to go to Logan to the Temple. In February, 1919, I also went to Logan.

The war ended on November 11, 1918. This was the happiest news I had ever heard as my sweetheart and my brother Edwin were in the Army. They would all come home.

On March 12, 1919, Byron and I were married in the Logan Temple. This was indeed the happiest day of my life, in spite of the flu which was raging so badly that all public places of gatherings had to be closed except the LDS. Temple.

Byron had a job in Brigham City guarding the railroad at $4.00 dollars a day. We lived in Aunt Mary Farmer's little home. In August we rented a place in Logan on Fifth North. On January 4, 1920, our first baby, Lynn, was born. Byron was so good to me and helped to care for the baby. In the spring of 1920 we bought a little old place on 340 North 3rd East, where we have lived ever since.

We could not afford to pay much for a home and we had been taught not to go into debt. We had looked around for some time and I am sure we were inspired to buy this place. At the time I cried and told my husband I thought I deserved a nicer home. But we cleaned it up and later started to build on to it, and then we made it modern. We always worked together. I helped with the carpentry and he helped with the house work.

On December 30, 1920, our second child came. We named him George after my father. So we had two babies born in the same year. Lynn didn't walk until he was fifteen months old. Both babies were born at home. My dear sister Sarah, always took care of me and the babies for the first twelve days.

On the 29th of June 1922 another little baby boy came to bless our home. We named him Ray Benjamin. He was such a good baby that it made it easier for me to watch the two older live wires. George walked when he was eleven months old.

August 24, 1923, we had another baby and were so thrilled when we had a darling little girl that we named Lola. Little Lynn was so happy and said to me, "Mama, aren't you glad nobody else got her?" While I was in bed, Byron finished our bathroom. Was I ever happy! Soon after, he finished the two bedrooms.

We had a lovely garden and raised all the vegetables we needed, also flowers. When the boys were old enough they would take the little wagon and load it with vegetables and sell them. They would come home so happy with the money. We sold it cheap enough so they always got rid of it.

On the 17th of January in 1927, we were blessed with another sweet boy. He seemed healthy at first, but the older children had measles and he may have gotten them, too, which affected his heart. He died when he was twelve days old. We named him Rulon. It was so hard for me to take as I loved him so much. We had a little funeral at our home. Uncle Nick Crookston gave such a lovely sermon, which gave us comfort.

On June 29, 1929, we were blessed with another darling little baby girl. We named her Donna. Mrs. Florence Bird, a neighbor who was a nurse before she married, took care of me. Beatrice, my niece, stayed with us a short time while she worked in town.

Lots of things could be mentioned about the children as they grew up and our early married life. The place we bought was just two small rooms, was very dirty and we had to put in a new floor. There wasn't even water on the lot. We had to carry it from the neighbors. Wild plum and chokecherry trees grew around it like a forest. We surely worked hard to clean it up. My husband was a plumber, so we soon had the water in the house. Our lot was mainly in grass and weeds.

We had a little garden in our front yard for a few years. I remember we also got a cow and had her staked in the back yard. I milked her most of the time. Where the chicken coop is now was the stable for the cow. One time we just had a ton of hay delivered and some boys in the neighbors lot set it on fire while we were gone. The firemen were here and saved some of it, but it was water soaked. We soon sold the cow and had chickens. My brothers gave us a pet lamb which was lots of fun for the children.

Byron made swings and trapezes for the children and there were always lots of the neighbor children around.

Byron did plumbing with his brother Bob the first year, then for himself. When the boys were a little older, they would go with him and help. So they all learned to do plumbing. There was always a lot to do on the place as we soon had the lot plowed. We planted berries and trees. We always had a lovely garden and raised all the vegetables we needed the year around.

In the fall Byron went hunting and always got a deer. When the boys were old enough, they would go with him. They all loved the mountains and would go for hikes. We never had to worry about our boys rambling around town. Often the neighbors who had boys would call to see if their boys were here and if so, would say, "I never worry if they are with the Crookston boys."

All our children grew active in the church. Lynn was the only one to go on a mission. Ray was a Stake Missionary for a short time, but by the time he and George were old enough to go on regular missions, they were in the service.

All our children married lovely companions who came from prominent and good families. Lola and Donna each married sons of Stake Presidents. All our children were married in the Temple, and are now raising lovely families. I hope they will all follow in their parents' footsteps.

We now have 45 beautiful grandchildren, all beautiful and normal in every way. I am thankful for each and every one of them. (They ended up with 50 grandchildren.)

Now in conclusion, I am most grateful for my testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and for all the wonderful blessings He has given me. My great desire is that I may live true and faithful to the end and that all of my family and loved ones will all be true Latter-day Saints so we can be one great family in the hereafter.

Thanks to Grandma Melva for providing this history.

Robert Crookston Jr.

• Robert Crookston Jr. 
• Born: March 6, 1855 Salt Lake City, Utah
• Died: February 6, 1928 Logan, Utah
• Related though: Dan’s grandfather Lynn Crookston

My father Robert Crookston, Jr. was born March 6, 1855, in Salt Lake City, Utah. He was the fifth child of 11 children born to Robert Crookston Sr. and Ann Welch. When he was four or five years old his family moved to Moroni, Utah, and when he was eight years old his family moved to Logan, Utah, where his parents stayed the rest of their lives. His father built a log house on North Main Street a half block north of the courthouse and it was here where he lived until he was married.

He learned responsibility at an early age and was hired by Moses Thatcher to watch his cattle. The ranch was located on Bear River west of Preston, Idaho. He lived in a little log cabin all alone. One day he found an Indian boy about his same age huddled among the cattle to keep warm. He had scarcely any clothes on even though it was cold weather. He couldn’t communicate well enough to explain where he came from and why he was there. Father motioned for him to come into the cabin to get something to eat. He shared what clothes he had with him and his food. They became good friends and he stayed until spring. He was good at catching fish from the river and supplemented their food with fish all winter. Father called him Indian John. Since he had no home, father showed him where to go across the river on a toll bridge and how to get to the Washakie Indian Reservation west of Logan. He gave him his own pony to ride. Indian John and Dad remained good friends all their lives. Whenever Indian John came to Logan, he would come by grandfather’s home to visit and borrow dad’s gun to go hunting. Grandfather and grandmother were always good to him and gave him flour, bread, etc. Father was the only one he would take hunting with him as he said everyone else was too noisy.

Father liked animals and was good to them. He spent a good deal of his time taking care of them and working with them. A horse fell on his leg when he was a young man and broke it. It gave him trouble the rest of his life. He limped from rheumatism.

In the settling of Utah the church would issue land to its members. Grandfather wanted his boys to learn to build instead of farm so he got only 40 acres located west of Logan. Dad was the only one home to work the land. Grandfather was working the rock quarry. They planted 10 to 15 acres and the rest was hay land. They planted grain and sugar beets. Father also worked at the quarry at the same time. The rock was selling for about $1.00 per load. There was no cement so everyone used rock for the foundations of their homes.

When father was 26 years old he married Rosabell Pitkin, age18, in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City on October 10, 1881. Their first child, a son named Robert Young, was born in Logan December 17, 1882.

Father took his wife and small son Bob and went to Rexburg, Idaho to homestead. He made a box with screen wire over it for Bob to take his cat. He also took a hive of bees with him and a few chickens and a cow. After clearing some land and planting it, he went freighting to Great Falls, Montana, (the nearest waterway port) and Corinne, Utah, (nearest railroad depot) while waiting for his crop to mature. They lived in Rexburg, Idaho, five or six years under very trying circumstances before returning to Logan.

While in Rexburg 3 more children were born in the family: Annie (July 6, 1885), Nicholas Lee (July 6, 1887), and Agnes (Feb 12, 1889). After returning to Logan six more children were born: Elease (Feb 1, 1891), Frank Byron (June 22, 1893), Carlton (July 18, 1896), Clement (Apr. 13, 1898), Ruth (July 7, 1900), and Vernon (Nov 4, 1903) making a total of ten children.

After coming back to Logan besides getting logs from Logan canyon for firewood, father did team work around town and worked the farm again. After the train came through Logan he would haul freight from the depot to the stores uptown and do any other work he could find.

In the early days the mountain on the south of the river of the mouth of Logan canyon ran right down into the river. The only way to get up the canyon was by horseback, fording the river. Soon after Logan was settled, Brigham Young advised them to clear a road up Logan canyon. Help came from around the nearby settlements, even as far away as Garland and Brigham City. 

It was no little job as the mountain was mostly solid rock. Finally they built a narrow road against the river. It remained that way until I was a big boy. The road department has been picking away at the mountain ever since. Now there is a wide two-lane highway. Whenever the men wanted to go to the canyon they would meet at the mouth of the canyon until there was more than one outfit so they could work together and have good security. 

One time when we were still living at McNeal’s dad went to the canyon to get wood in the wintertime. He was bringing a horse and a mule on a sleigh. The weather was cloudy and threatening so no one else came. After waiting a while he decided to go alone because his family needed wood. He did not return home as usual, but we all went to bed anyway. About midnight there was a noise on the doorstep. One of the boys went to investigate and found the team with the gray mule pawing on the doorstep. Father was seated on a the front running gear of the sleigh wrapped in a camp quilt which was frozen stiff so he could not even move. We asked him what happened. He said a small snow slide pushed them into the river. We asked him how they got out and he said that the gray mule dug them out and brought him home. We never found the other half of the sleigh. Father was only frost bitten and in a few days was recovered enough to be able to go again. He always felt like the gray mule saved his life.

One of the early recollections was the death of one of father’s workhorses. It was big horse that father got from the circus. He traded a mule for it. One day it just laid down in the barn and died. Father had to take the side of the barn to get it out. Serge Bodrero brought over a big team of black horses with a big flat bed with small iron wheels. They dug holes in the ground and buried the hind wheels, so that the team of horses could pull the dead horse right up on the wagon. The team then pulled the wagon out to the holes and took the horse away.

When I was a small boy, father bought the Kartchner property at 434 West 2nd South, Logan, Utah, where we built our home. There was two-story house on the property that was moved up near the college. Grandfather Crookston helped father lay the foundation using the rock from grandfather’s rock quarry at the mouth of Logan canyon. The rock was blue limestone. The rock used in the construction was much larger than needed, so it was a sure foundation. The house was built about two feet off the ground. Most of the lumber was made from logs that dad had cut. Uncle Nick supervised the building but my brother Lee did most of the work. It was a two-story home with two rooms down stairs and two above. Later two screen porches were added and an additional room on the west that was used as a summer kitchen. Here mother canned her fruit and did the laundry.

The lot was about an acre, so we had plenty of room for a barn, corral, garden and orchard. The orchard consisted mostly of apple trees with a cherry, pear, prune and several plum trees. Later my brother Byron built us a root cellar behind the house. Father always kept a milk cow, which I learned to milk at an early age, and horses or mules, chickens and a sheep. Every spring we would get a lamb and feed it until winter and then butcher it. Mother used to card the wool for quilt bats. We had a well with a pump just south of the house. There was always a stream of water flowing in front of the lot on the north and also at the south edge of the lot, both were used for irrigation. The back half of the lot was lower than the front, going down a small hill. The barn, corral, and garden were below the hill with the house and orchard level with the street.

Robert Crookston Jr, and Rosabell Pitkin

The cooler we used to keep our food cool was a box under a tree out in the yard in a protected area. It consisted of a frame covered with burlap and the burlap was hanging in pans of water. The breeze blowing through the wet burlap cooled the food. It was used mostly for milk, cream and butter. Soon after ice delivery was available we purchased an icebox that was located in the hall between the main house and the summer kitchen. The iceman delivered ice several times a week. He would come in and put the ice in the icebox and tear out a coupon from a book previously purchased and hanging on a nail be the icebox.

We often supplemented our food with fish and game. One winter dad came home from the canyon with a load of firewood on top of which he had several small deer. In order to keep some of the meat after it was dressed and cleaned we salted it down in a wooden barrel buried in the ground in the shade of the cherry tree. The meat was good, but the cherry tree died later from the salt. The rest of the meat we froze and ate or gave it away.

Father was a kind person and would often see that the widows had free firewood. My brother Bob said that often when he came home from school father would have a log tied on the bobsleigh and the team hitched up ready to go. Dad would instruct him where to deliver it and he was told not to talk to anyone.

After his house was built father gave the team to this brother-in-law Plesant Farmer as he would be working the farm while father worked for the coal mines east of Salt Lake City. His job was to care for their horses and mules. He left one horse at home to pull the buggy so we had transportation while he was gone. We also had a telephone installed, which was a great help for mother. She used it to order all our groceries. They were always delivered to the house and charged to our account. The bill was paid monthly. Having the telephone made mother feel more secure when father was away.

I remember once when father came home on a visit while still working for the mines, he took Carl and me fishing down in Little Logan River by the Fairgrounds. He carried us across the river on his back one at a time. Carl and I played on the bank while he fished. He caught two or three small fish.

After father returned from working in the mines, Mother got him a job working for Utah Power and Light Company driving a team of horses and taking care of all their horses. He worked there until he died.

Men from Bear Lake used to bring large suckers they caught in Bear Lake to town to sell. They kept them in tubs of cold water and sold them on Main Street. Dad would often buy one on his way home from work.

He was a very quiet person and not very outgoing. He only talked to others when it was necessary. He was a practical person, could see what was needed to be done and would do it. He believed in the gospel and kept me on my mission after my money was gone. He was an honest, hard worker, and lived on meager means all his life.

Dad was about 5 feet 10 inches tall, was stocky built, but never heavy. He had dark brown hair and part of his life he wore a moustache.

He was not very active in attending church. In his later life only attend Stake High Priest Quorum meetings and funerals. He died in the hospital from pneumonia following an operation at the age of 73 on June 2, 1928. After he died, mother lived on his life insurance until her death at the age of 76 on April 23, 1940.

This life sketch was written by his son Clement Crookston.

Robert Crookston Sr.

• Name: Robert Crookston Sr.
• Born: September 21, 1821 Anstruther Fife Shire, Scotland
• Died: September 21, 1816 Logan, Utah
• Related through: Dan's grandfather Lynn Crookston

I, Robert Crookston, was the son of James Crookston and Mary Young Crookston. I was born September 2l, l82l in the town of Anstruther Fife Shire, Scotland. My father James Crookston was born in Terent, East Lothian, Scotland about the year l785. My mother was James Crookston's second wife. His first wife was Janet Lock.

My father had moved from Terent to Fife Shire to work at his trade of making wrought iron nails. Anstruther was a fishing village, consequently a great many fishing boats were built there and he did very well until some merchants got busy and undersold him and in consequence he became discouraged and moved toward the west about 30 miles and got work at the coal mines. My father was sober, saving and industrious. He was always good natured, could play the violin. In fact he made several, one of which he brought to America with him. The nearest town was two miles from where we lived. We used to do our trading there and it was called East Weemy. As there was no school near, I was sent to Anstruther to my Grandparent's to attend school. My mother would come to see me as often as she could by stage coach. My Grandparents were very religious; they attended the Lutheran Church and had family worship daily. Grandfather used to pray, read a chapter from the old family Bible and sing a few verses of the Psalms of David. They also taught me to pray.

My Grandfather had a nice garden near his house and several nice apple trees and gooseberry bushes. Sometimes I found it rather lonely for a boy. I lived there about three years when Grandfather died. He had four sons and two daughters: John, a shoemaker on Williams Street, Edinbourough; William, a wine merchant on High Street; David in Anstruther had several sons; George in Strickness was a farmer, also had a family (I was not very well acquainted with any of them); Sophia Robinson and my mother, Mary Young Crookston. Grandfather was about 70 years of age when he died. At the funeral it was decided that my mother take Grandmother home with her which she did and made her comfortable the remainder of her days which were about three years. Her dying wish was that she he buried by Grandfather in Hilrinnce Church Yard. She was buried there where many of our ancestors were also laid.

In Weemy's Parish our home was near a wood. There were many hares and rabbits, wild birds’ nests, heather and whin bushes. It was a beautiful place in summer, commanding a fine view of the south bank of the Firth, or Forth, where could be seen all manner of fishing boats and crafts by the hundreds with May Island between Cyrat and Leith. We could also see East Lothia, south of the Firth. To the northwest there stood the lofty Ben Lomond, spoken of in Burns' Poems, then low hills extending east to Large Law which is quite a large hill. All the slopes of these low hills were covered with farms and fields well cultivated and fenced with hawthorn hedges. It was such a beautiful picture, about harvest time when the green and yellow fields lay side by side. We had a lovely vegetable garden and as mother was a flower lover, we had many beautiful flowers. It was a pleasant happy home and the house rent and coal were free.

I attended school at Weemers. On my way I carried father's breakfast to the top of the coal shaft, it was let down to the miners at nine o'clock each morning. I used to play with four or five other boys along the road which was an old railroad, along the grade liquorice root grew plentifully and we dug it up and chewed on our way to school.

Our school master was Walter Burt. These schools were graded as they are now. The text books consisted of the Bible and spelling book. Writing and arithmetic were also taught. I attended that school until I was about fourteen years of age when Father had me go down in the mine to work with him. I received one fourth of a miner’s wage. When Father had an easy place to work he would do my share and his own and send me out to play awhile. Father was always good to me and sang as merrily as a lark at his work.

We used to go down on summer mornings, the birds would be singing so sweetly, the hares hopping in the furrows among the green wheat fields, the hawthorn hedges white with blossoms. The perfume was so pleasant that it took a stout heart to light a stinking lamp and go down into the bowels of the earth for eight or ten hours. We could take a day’s rest once a week, then we would work in our vegetable garden.

Mother had lots of flowers, many roses and honeysuckles. There were several girls working in the coal pits along with their fathers and brothers. They pushed small cars on the track, containing about 600 pounds each. They were good girls and seemed to be treated with respect. After working hours they always dressed up like ladies. I am glad to say there are now no women allowed to work in coal pits.

When I reached my seventeenth year I went to church with Father and Mother to Burkhaven about three miles distant, lying close to the seashore and inhabited by fishermen. At the close of the morning service, I would take a walk on the seashore and sometimes gather pretty shells. We sometimes went to a public house where we would get some bread and cheese and a bottle of Port, then back to meeting in the afternoon. We thought our preacher was the best in the country because he could deliver his sermon extemporaneously and most ministers read their sermons. Like all the rest he preached faith in the Lord Jesus as being all that was necessary to be saved. A saving faith was all required. Never could understand what he meant by a saving faith although he had been preaching to us for years. At last he said that we had to know that our sins were forgiven before we could be in a saved condition. I began to think he could not tell us how to be saved. I went to hear others to see if they could, but they were all alike, preaching for hire. I began to be uneasy concerning the matter and had no idea but that some of them could be right. My Aunt Sophia and Cousin Margaret Robinson wrote me from Edinburgh that they had joined the Church of Jesus Christ and invited me to come and hear their minister.

Accordingly I went and for the first heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I believed every word of it. Elder George D. Watt preached the sermon in Whitefield Chapel, Ediburgh. Orson Pratt organized the branch there and sent Brother Watt to preside. He preached faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, repentance from our sins, baptism by immersion for the remission of our sins, and the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost. He showed that a man must be called of God as was Aaron. I was converted on the spot and was baptized that very evening in Duddenston Lock or Lake. I received a testimony of the truthfulness of the Gospel and many other things were made known to me concerning the coming forth of the work by the ministering of angels which I thought was just what was needed in the present state of priestcraft. A flood of light burst upon my mind that I had never before experienced. I felt a love for all mankind and I thought that I would only need to tell me people and friends about the true Gospel and I would be able to convert them all, but I soon found this to be impossible.

After my baptism, I bought most of the then published works of the Church. Among them was "The Voice of Warning" by Parley P. Pratt, "Letters" and others so I was pretty well armed. My father, mother and half sister Janet were all soon converted. Some of my friends and neighbors were favorably impressed at first but later they turned their backs upon us and became our most bitter enemies.

Our Minister had no doubt heard something about my trip to Edinburgh, so he came to our house one evening although he had not visited us for some two years. We were regular attendants at his church and he thought I should be there. I told him I had been to Edinburgh and heard the Gospel from men called of God as was Aaron. They preached the same Gospel that Peter did on the day of Pentecost when the multitude were convinced that their sins pricked in their hearts and cried out, "What shall we do to be saved" and Peter answered them, "Repent every one of you and be baptized and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost."

I told the Minister I had been baptized. He said, "Had you not already been baptized?" I said that I had been sprinkled when an infant but that was a man made device and that infants were innocent and were not subjects for baptism, as Jesus said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven."

I cannot go any further into this discussion. Several neighbors had slipped in when they saw the preacher come; thinking perhaps that it would be some entertainment for them. I kept cool and collected and was able to show from the scriptures that what I advanced was the truth which made the Reverend Pollock so angry that he frothed at the mouth and predicted all manner of evil for us, showing to all present, especially my own people, that he had a bad spirit.

Soon after that I sent for Brother Watt to come over and try and raise up a branch. He came and I went to meet him at Dysart where the steamer landed.

When he took my hand I felt that he was the only man that held the Priesthood on the north side of the Firth. It was a beautiful day in the spring of l840. As we walked along all was quiet except for the whistling of the birds. Brother Watt said, "Robert, the Savior said He came not to bring peace to the earth but the sword. There will be more turning over of the leaves of dusty Bibles in the next three months than has been in the past 20 years." And it was so. I rented a large hall for him to preach in and at first the people flocked to hear about the Gospel and nearly twenty were baptized then. When this brother had to leave, he made his home with us while there. When he went home he sent two other Elders who also stayed with us. Their names were William McCann and Robert Menzies. They also preached in the hall I had rented but the people were losing their interest except the few who were really converted.

I was full of enthusiasm and did all I could to further the work. I had some amusing incidents. For instance, I approached an old man, a friend of our family. He listened awhile then laying his hand on my shoulder he chuckled and said, "Ah Crookie, let the Minister do the preaching, he's paid for it."

My father had saved quite a sum of money for his old age and I also had quite a little so we decided to emigrate to America where we could be with the body of the Church. My Aunt Sophia, or Suffie we called her, and Cousin Maggie were anxious to go with us so we told them we would pay their passage. Uncle William Robinson had not joined the Church. He drank a good deal and he and Aunt Suffie were not living together. He felt very bad and wanted to go with us but had no money. He was a good natured, kind man but father and mother did not like him. His daughter loved him and I felt sorry for him and finally the folks consented and we brought him along. We could not afford to pay his passage so we pulled the feather beds to the front of a bunk and hid the old man under the quilts while the inspector went through. All of us would smuggle food down to him and take him up on deck at night for some fresh air. After he had been in Nauvoo awhile he joined the Church but was not robust and died at that place. The folks had to bury him.

Our Scots neighbors thought we were crazy, and as they knew that we could not take much of our possessions with us we had to sell everything at a great sacrifice. But we wanted to come to Zion and be taught by the Prophet of God. We had the spirit of gathering so strongly that Babylon had no claim on us, so on the 7th day of September l84l we sailed from Liverpool on the Ship Sydney.

Captain Cowan, Leiv Richards, President with l80 passengers. Among the number were George Q. Cannon, Angus Cannon and their mother, George D. Watt and family. We had a voyage of eight weeks. It was not a bad trip and we would have enjoyed a lot of it had not mother been ill a lot of the time and a very sad thing happened. The mother of the Cannons died on the ship when in sight of the West India Islands. They were not permitted to land with a body on board so she was consigned to a watery grave. It was a very solemn occasion. At last we were towed up the river to New Orleans and so had a chance to set our feet on terra firma. Our President charted a large steamer which took us up the river l200 miles to St Louis. We rented a house for a month as the river up to Nauvoo was frozen over. When our month was up we took a steamer to Alton, twenty-five miles up the river and got employment in a packing house there. They killed 38,000 hogs during the winter. The people there were very friendly and treated us fine. The wages were low but everything was cheap. Flour was $3.00 per barrel, sugar l8 lbs. per $l.00, and everything else in proportion. When the river opened up we started for Nauvoo, a distance of 300 miles. As we approached the landing place to our great joy we saw the Prophet Joseph Smith there to welcome his people who had come so far. We were all so glad to see him and set our feet upon the Promised Land so to speak. It was the most thrilling experience of my life for I know that he was a Prophet of the Lord.

The only house we could get was a shell of a place made of rails set in the ground and covered with boards 4 feet long, split out of logs. It, of course, was very cold and when it snowed it covered the floor and beds. We were not there long when an old acquaintance of father's from Leith, Scotland, James Fife, who had emigrated a year before us came to see us from Macedonia. He advised us to go there as he thought we could do better. There was a small branch there. Macedonia was a small town of about 80 families, about 25 miles east of Nauvoo and 8 miles from Carthage. We could find no house to rent, so Fifes took us into their home. Father made a bargain with a man for lumber and to hurry the deal up, paid for it. Before we could saw it the stream that ran the mill went dry and we got no lumber for several months.

While there, my brother James and I were called out to attend military drill at Nauvoo. The Prophet Joseph Smith was the general and paraded the Legion. Jimmie was never robust like me. When it came on one of those heavy rains common to that part of the country and we were drenched to the skin he took a severe cold and when we got home he was taken very sick and what is now called pneumonia soon carried him off. In a small chamber off the main room of Brother Fife's house, Mother and Sister Fife did all they could for him with what they had to do with, but he, like many others, died of privation.

Soon after this we were fortunate enough to rent a house from Brother Perkins. We took in a man who was a weaver who had his family still in the old country. He agreed to keep us in firewood id we would let him work in our house and Mother to do his cooking. So they agreed. I thought at least that Father and Mother would be kept warm and as I needed to be earning I went to Alton. I only earned enough to barely subsist on. I caught a severe cold going down the river and was not well for some time. The most I was able to save was two barrels of pottery ware, which I took home with me and sold very readily. We went up the river to Nauvoo on a small steamer called the Maid of Iowa belonging to the Church. It had come from New Orleans and brought a cargo of Saints, a number of whom came from the Isle of Man. Among them was William Waterson, his father and mother, Brother Tarbet, Brother Cowley and family, Brother Crook and family who, after coming to Utah, settled in American Fork. This steamer was much longer on the trip than we expected as the engines were too small to stem the heavy current of the lower Mississippi.

The Prophet and many others were there on the wharf looking for her and waiting to welcome the Saints. The Captain and myself were the only ones on board who had ever seen the Prophet and they were all anxious to have us point him out. I remember Old Crook when he got hold of his hand, said, "I've come a long way to see the Prophet." "Yes," said Brother Joseph, "You have, but you will never regret it." And he never did. He was a faithful Saint and lived to a good old age.

The journey in those days took men and women of faith. It was so long and tiresome. A good many of the people settled in Macedonia. I got a city lot and commenced to build. Brother Fife did the framing. I found a coal mine while looking for rock l2 miles east of Macedonia and on some land called patent land that nobody had claimed. It was the only coal that had been found in that section of the country. I camped there and blacksmiths from Nauvoo and other places sent for coal. The teams came in the evening and the drivers sometimes stayed all night. I often had to work all night to get the loads ready for morning. I did my own cooking which usually consisted of a slice of bacon, and then some of the fat kneaded into some flour with which I baked scones. I went home every Saturday, Father and Mother were always glad to have me come. They were living in our own little home with a prospect of being somewhat comfortable yet. They missed James greatly. Father fenced a piece of land close to town and raised corn, potatoes, and other garden stuff. We also had a good cow on our city lot.

Uncle John Smith, who was President of the Branch and was also a Patriarch, came to our house and always gave us blessings. He also sealed my Father's two wives to him for time and eternity. Brother Joseph had authorized him to seal the old people that might not live to see a temple constructed. We were happy about this, and as the old gentleman was not so very well fixed for clothing, having been driven so much and as we had brought quite a lot of shirting cloth from Scotland, we were able to supply his wants in that respect. The Saints were all willing to divide their substance with each other as long as they had anything to spare.

Joseph and some of the twelve came to Macedonia to preach to us. There was a large gathering of people, members and others. He took his text from the first chapter of the Second Epistle of Peter. There was a portion of which was reported and it appeared in the new edition of the Doctrine and Covenants. The place where he preached these sermons was first called Ramas and later Macedonia. He said it was a man’s privilege to have revelations for himself that his name was written in the Lamb's book of life. He preached in a grove that surrounded the house where we lived and in selecting the best place to face the congregation moved his chair nearer the house. The brethren who were with him moved theirs also except Bishop Miller. Joseph said," Brother Miller, are you going to forsake me?" To which he replied, "Oh no, Brother Joseph." But later I met that same man turning his back upon the Church when we were at Winter Quarters. It reminded me of what Jesus said to one of his Disciples. "Will you also turn away?" He said in his remarks that there were three degrees of glory in the Celestial Kingdom, and to attain to the highest a man must abide the law of that Kingdom.

The Prophet Joseph was Mayor of Nauvoo City. Some apostates published a paper with so many malicious lies about our people that the City Council proclaimed it a nuisance. They then raised the hue and cry of rebellion of our people against the government and collected a mob so as to get Joseph in their power.

I was called with a number of the brethren to protect the city. I was just recovering from a spell of fever and ague. My legs were so swollen I could hardly walk the length of a block far less travel twenty miles across a prairie half a leg deep in water about half the distance on account of heavy rains. The fever sores on my legs forbade me getting wet under any ordinary condition, but I had faith in God and the blessing of our grand old Patriarch who promised that I should take no harm and would return in safety to my parents. We started in the evening and reached the city in the morning. We were quartered in a large brick house yet unfinished, belonging to a man by the name of Foster. Joseph reviewed the Legion that day on the flat and spoke encouragingly to them. Drawing his sword he said that if there was a drop of blood spilt it should never again be sheathed until this nation is drenched in blood.

The last time I saw him in life he and his brother Hyrum, Brothers Taylor and Richards were on their way to Nauvoo on horseback. Joseph's horse was a pacer and the other three were trotters. He rode his horse in a kingly manner. I was standing in the doorway of Brother Frocham’s house when they passed. Frocham and his wife and others were there. Brother Frocham's wife, with a look of fear on her pale face, said, "Poor Joseph. We will never see him again," and rushed into the house and threw herself on the bed and wept aloud.  Her impression was right. He and his brother were martyred the next day. Our company had been dismissed. Brother Fife and I started for home alone, but we mistook the Carthage road for the Macedonia road and walked into Carthage where we were arrested and placed in Carthage Jail under guard until morning. We were then escorted to the Court House where the Judge merely asked us what we wanted there. Brother Fife had a happy thought and spoke up, saying "We want a pass to Macedonia." The Judge, turning to the clerk said, "Write these gentlemen out a pass to Macedonia."

They had gotten what they wanted. Joseph and Hyrum were in jail and they did not want any more Mormons around so we went home, the distance being about eight miles. We were not molested but we overheard threats as to what would happen to the Smiths, so we went to our Captain and entreated him to call out our brethren and go within a half mile of Carthage to strip off timber and lay in ambush. But he refused saying that the Governor had put the county under martial law and anyone bearing arms under his command would be liable to arrest. We told him we were willing to risk that but he was firm in his purpose. In the afternoon the troops from Macedonia who were friendly to the Mormon prisoners were sent home. They said they would not give a button for the lives of the Smiths, but if that damned old Governor had allowed them to remain they would have seen to it that the prisoners would have had a fair trial. The Governor had left them to the mercy of a mob, while they, themselves, went up to Nauvoo to argue the people about being law abiding citizen, knowing full well that the mob at Carthage were doing their bloody work.

Brother Babbet, lawyer, came home soon after on horseback stating that the mob had given him but five minutes to leave or they would kill him, and he fully expected that our Prophet would be killed.

When the awful tidings reached us the people wept aloud. One could hear the sobs and crying from every quarter. They felt as though the hosts of Hell were let loose to do their murderous work of extermination if possible. The Gentiles approved of the ghastly deed and predicted that it would be the end of Mormonism. I will never forget the heartache and desolate feeling I had when I looked upon the face of our martyred Prophet and Patriarch.

At a conference in October l844 I was ordained a member of the 2lst Quorum of Seventies by President Joseph Young. When the Nauvoo Temple was completed I received my endowment. Soon after which we began to prepare for the migration to the west. Brother Fife started with many others to make the woodwork of our wagons. He made mine and a blacksmith for whom I had furnished coal made the iron. Having a chance to sell my lot I managed to get a yoke of eight year old steers for the house and lot. This was all the team I had. There was a Brother Don Nance by name who had a herd of cattle and horses who kindly lent me a yoke of cattle well broken. He had eight wagons. I helped him to harness his teams and Father rode on horseback and helped to drive the sheep. He had two daughters who drove mule teams. Brother Nance was a good, kind man and all his family were good to us. We traveled over country which was mostly uninhabited. Hardly any roads, and in many places we had to stop and cut bulrushes to put in the swampy holes so that our wagons could pass over. Yet there were no murmurings in the company although we had nothing except what we had in our wagons and knew not where our next stopping place would be or what it would be like. We were cheerful and hopeful for we knew that we were led by men inspired of God. There were several camps made on the way that the people might stop and recruit. Luckily, or unluckily, for me I was not in time to join the Mormon Battalion or I would in all probability have answered the call. There were very few who felt inclined to leave their loved ones and cross a desert to fight the battles of a country which had made outcasts of them, but everyone, loyal to the Priesthood, marched away and God was with them and this fact constitutes one of the best arguments that we can produce to prove our loyalty to the Government.

When we arrived at the Missouri River we drove the cattle in and they swam across, some of the outfits landing a mile below on the other side. There was a ferry boat to take our wagons across at a place called Cutlers Park, where there were several hundred wagons waiting to cross on it. It so happened that my wagon was next to a young man's outfit by the name of John Welch. He was an Englishman who had a young, good looking wife whom he called Eliza, his mother and Sister Ann. Ann was, to my notion, a very attractive young lady, cheerful, refined in manner, a good companionable person with a sweet voice. Many a night she cheered the company with her singing of old songs, many of which were Scottish. In fact, I concluded that there were no songs then written with which she was unfamiliar. They were very fine neighbors, and soon we felt as if we had always known them. My father and mother soon grew very fond of Ann, to say nothing of myself, and I determined to win her if I could. She seemed to have a natural gift for cheering and caring for the sick, and was always on hand to do so without money or price.

About this time, we organized into a company to cut and haul hay. Brother Vance was our captain. Some were to cut, some to rake and some to haul, of which John Welch and I did a lot. Others did the stacking. By that time we had organized our camp on a piece of land near the river, which was called Winter Quarters. Brother Welch and I built our cabins near each other, covered them with cottonwood bark which made a good thatch. We then cut large trees, notched the bark in feet lengths, peeled it off in large flakes, and placed them on the roof. We then weighted them down with other logs to keep them from warping in the sun. While we were building our house we camped out. Father and Mother had their bed in a good sheltered place in a covered wagon box. I am thankful that I did everything I knew how to make them as comfortable as possible. We used to sit around a camp fire of evenings. Father would play his violin and we sang hymns and songs. Father, I thought, was a good singer and Ann would often be with us singing also. In fact the Welch family and ours were quite neighborly. After the house was finished, the winter wood hauled and all, a man came up from Platt County, Missouri, wanting a company of men, all kinds of builders, to go with him to build a mill. He got about twenty men, so on the 20th of November l846 I left Father and Mother and went with them to work in Missouri all winter.

Near Christmastime, about a month after I left, Father died very suddenly. He had apparently been as well as usual, until one day he said to Mother, "Mary, I would like some clean underwear." She got it for him and prepared a bath. He shaved, and while doing so said to her, "Mary, I think I am going to die today. I see a look of death on my face." She was horrified, and said, "James, you must not say such a thing. Jimmie is dead and Rob is away and you can't leave me here alone." He did not argue with her but took his bath, seemed cheerful, and talked a good deal about the old Scotch home and his son George who had not yet emigrated. After awhile he went and opened an old chest, looked over some letters, and then took out a little wooden box made in the shape of a large, red apple cut in half in which were some little trinkets, among which was a lock of golden hair of his first wife. He said, "Mary, ye mon give these things to Georgie when he comes." Mother felt very badly and chided him for giving way to such feelings so he got up and said, "Well, I think I'll just cut out a place in the door and put in a wee bit of glass. It will make the room more light and cheerful." He did so making a nice, neat job of it. He seemed tired out and exhausted when it was finished so as he went toward the bed he said, "Weel, I think I'll just lay me doon and dee." Mother helped to make him comfortable, and being alarmed by that time went to call someone. Some of the neighbors came in and he talked to them, but seemed to be growing weaker, and toward evening quietly passed away.

Mother, naturally, was quite heartbroken and alone in the world. The Welch's of course, came in to try and comfort her and she persuaded Ann to stay with her which she did a great deal of the time. There were many deaths in Winter Quarters that winter. All the lumber used had to be sawed with a whip saw, and some of the people who died were buried without coffins. Mother was afraid that Father would be, but thanks to Father Lot, who used to live on Joseph Smith's and was a good friend of ours, ordered a coffin and said I would pay for it and if not he, himself, would. So Father got a comparatively decent burial and I paid the bill.

Brother Welch was down in Missouri at the time of Father's death. Ann was a great comfort to my Mother. he also helped to nurse some of the sick of which there were a good many. My Mother was among the number. I had my cattle and wagon with me. They had been well wintered and were in good trim when I came home in early spring. I brought a load of provisions and pork up, broke up a lot of land and planted a good garden. The brethren broke up about l500 acres of prairie land and planted corn.

In June, on the 20th day, l847, Ann Welch and I were united in marriage. The ceremony was performed by Elder Joseph Fielding, in our neat, new little cabin. A king in his palace was no happier than I was. I was sure I had the smartest girl in the camp of Israel. Her words were like proverbs; she was well read and had a wonderful memory. She had one of the sweetest voices I had ever heard and often entertained us with reciting the poems of Robert Burns and many others. She was a splendid housekeeper, always keeping within our means and had quite a good understanding of the use of herbs which came in handy very often.

About two months after our marriage I left my wife and Mother. My brother-in-law, John and I went to Savanna, Andrew County, Missouri, to work. It was about l40 miles and we got work at digging a well. We struck water at 40 feet and the people were delighted. We got a good number of wells to dig for them and they were always ready to pay us when the work was done. Although it was the state that had driven the people out, yet it was far north of the county where they had lived and died and there seemed to be no mob spirit there.

It had been predicted by the leaders that those who needed an outfit to go on to the valleys of the mountains and went down to Missouri to make one would find employment and be blessed. If they stayed after they had sufficient means to come on, the Lord would cease to bless them and they would grow poor, lose the good spirit and be unable to follow the Church. This I have seen bitterly fulfilled. There were brethren there who were much better off than we. They thought they would just stay one year more. The last I heard of them they had not emigrated. The counsel we had received was for us not to come on without eighteen month's provisions so that a good sized family had to have two wagons, so we had to stay until the crops were harvested. We stayed in Savannah until late in the fall then went home.

While we were away, Ann, my wife, had been taking care of Mother who was getting old but who was pretty well. She also had been helping care for any sick in the camp. One of these whom she had visited frequently was a lady, Mrs. Holland by name, who had lost her husband. She had two or three sons, boys rather, and a little girl, Carolyn by name. It seemed that this Mrs. Holland had been influenced to remarry with the promise of getting herself and children taken to the valleys of the mountains. She had not been as comfortable in this marriage as she had expected in more ways than one. She was very sick and very unhappy in the thought that perhaps she was not going to get well, and did not like the prospect of leaving Carrie in the family into which she had married. She therefore asked Ann one day if she would take Carrie in case she died. Ann did not know what to say to this. She told her she would be willing but that her husband was away and she could not do so without first consulting him. As it happened, I came home about that time We decided to take the little girl home with us in case her mother did not recover. The poor little soul passed away in a few days and after the funeral which we both attended we took Carrie by the hand home with us and she seemed glad to go. Carrie was a good little girl and we tried to do the best we could for her. We were all fond of her, Mother took her in her bed and was kind to her.

Soon after this we moved to Savannah. John and I had engaged a house of William Manning two miles east of Savannah. There we two families lived in this house. We dug a well there on the place. The owners were so pleased that they would do anything they could for us. We fixed up the place better than it ever had been. We lived well for those times and our cattle were well wintered. We considered our cattle and wagon our temporal salvation. There were no Vain or Schullter Wagons in those days. They were all homemade and the timber was not very well seasoned. We moved from there the next spring to another place, rented a farm and a house for each family from a man by the name of Rhodes. They were good neighbors and seemed to like us. It was what would be called a backwoods, but it was a pretty place; there were large quantities of wild fruit, crab apples, blackberries, and hazel nuts.

There on July 27 l848 our first son was born. That day my wife said was the happiest day of her life and I certainly was a proud and happy father. He was a fine baby, grew fast and was unusually bright. We called him George after her little brother who had died in Nauvoo.

We stayed there two years and got plenty of work and gathered around us the things which we needed, we also were treated well. We moved from there into the town of Savannah where the most of our work was. I rented a house at the edge of the town where there was a large pasture where we could keep the cattle. We also dug a well for the owner, Monroe by name. This paid for our house rent. While there a great excitement arose over the gold mine in California and Brother Welch, being a cutter, started to make Bowie knives to sell to the emigrants who all wanted a knife with a guard on the handle and a scabbard to hang on their belts, also a pair of goggles before they could cross the plains. Our women folks were able to make the goggles. Mother and Ann made them at 25 cents a pair. They sold $l8.00 worth. Many a man left there expecting to make his everlasting fortune, but goodness only knows how many found their dreams realized. When they got to Great Salt Lake City they were so excited by seeing a few small sacks of gold dust they exchanged their whole outfit of three or four yoke of cattle, wagons loaded with provisions for a couple of plug ponies to pack what they could and rush on the rest of the way. These things were just what the people of Salt Lake needed and what Heber C. Kimball predicted.

When the people were getting badly off for clothing and other necessities and could not see their way clear to obtain any more, this servant of the Lord stood up and told them that they need not be discouraged for there would be goods brought there and sold cheaper than could be bought in St. Louis. He almost doubted it himself, after he had said it, but it came nevertheless according to his predictions.

Before leaving the Rhodes place another son was born to us on the l8th of October, l849, at Savannah, Andrew County, Missouri, and named William after Ann's other brother who died in Nauvoo. He was a fine boy like the first.

While we lived in Savannah I dug a well a piece for most of the businessmen and got good pay so that when we left there in l85l I had two yoke of oxen, two yoke of cows and a good outfit of clothing and provisions for the family. We started in company with Brothers Welch, Gray and Lever. The season was so rainy that the roads were very bad to travel. The streams were running over their banks and covering the bottom land on both sides half a mile wide. There were the Noday, the two Turocs and the Nabhonabatona, four large streams which we had to cross in ferry boats between Savannah and Kanesville.

At Jackson Point, Holt County, Missouri, another son was born to us on the lst day of June l85l, a week after we started on our journey. We named him John.

We arrived at Keg Creek where there was a branch of the Church presided over by Lilis T. Coons at a place called Glenwood. Here we were counseled to remain until spring as it was too late in the season to cross the plains. Here I built a good log cabin and corral, thinking that I would be able to sell it for what it cost me as the place was expected to become the county seat. I was disappointed and only got twenty dollars for the house, lot and corral. Brother John Welch and I rented a piece of land to raise corn to feed our cattle that we might have them in good order for the spring.

Here my mother was very ill and died. Before dying she said one day that she felt like she did not care to go on, that she had rather not go any farther away from where Father was laid. So I had buried them all now in the course of our travels, my brother James, Father and Mother. We missed our dear Mother, she and Ann were good companions. She used to help nurse the children of whom she was very fond. She would sing all manner of old Scotch ditties to them. George would climb on her knee and say,"Sing, Granny, telling her what song. She would say, "Oh, you Bairne, ye make you auld Granny daft."

I took a team and went back to Missouri to make another outfit and was glad that we had little Carrie to be some company to Ann and the children. There was a young man, James Curry, a blacksmith, with whose family I had been acquainted from my earliest recollection. I was the means of bringing the Curry family into the Church. They came from Estrette in Fife Shire, Scotland. They were at this time in Coonsville. James and John Welch worked together. He stayed at Welch's and Ann cooked his meals. He proved a very good friend to us, was kind to the wife at doing chores and cutting firewood. I got work again and came back with a good lot of supplies.

We started once more to try and reach the Valley, as we called it, early in the season or as early as possible. There were ten wagons. Captain Betz, a blacksmith, John Welch, Mr. Workman, Serogy and myself. The Indians were bad at times on the plains so it was advised that the people travel in large companies. We traveled between large companies, sometimes being one day apart from them. In Indian country we traveled with other small companies when there were signs of danger.

We saw a great many Indians near the Black Hills, but had no trouble. We always had a night guard to watch the cattle. We traded flour to the Indians for buckskin and buffalo robes. We killed a large buffalo and divided the meat, each getting a washtub full. We jerked the meat by hanging it in the smoke of the campfire at night to dry it and prevent it from spoiling. We saw Indians every few days but had no trouble with them. We had our wagon box made with projection boards so our beds could be made up at night with our provision boxes underneath. We had a door in the side of the wagon box and Mother Ann could step out when the wagon was moving. We had a large yoke of red oxen on the tongue, one yoke of cows, and a yoke of four year old steers on the load. The buffalo we killed was at the North Platte, the meat was very good.

We had no trouble on the plains with Indians, were comparatively well, and were very anxious to see the Valley. We knew that we would be very glad to settle down after our weary march. We arrived in Salt Lake City, September l852.

I bought a choice adobe house in the first ward and lived there two years. We had a good garden of different kinds of vegetables.

Our baby boy James was born in Salt Lake City, April 27, l853. He seemed delicate and died in his second year, September l8, l854.

I worked in Red Butte Canyon quarry under Bishop John Sharp. I also worked in the limestone quarry with Adam Hunt and Andrew Burt. He was the father of Captain Andrew Burt of the police in Salt Lake City, who was killed by a Negro, while on duty in l883. I helped load the cornerstones of the Salt Lake Temple and was present when the stones were laid.

We moved again in l856 to the 20th Ward. That year my half brother George came from Scotland and he and two of his sons worked in the temple quarries. I continued to work there until l857. When Johnston's Army came in I was in John Sharp's Company in Echo Canyon the winter of l857. We built tents of poles covered with grass and cedar bark, big enough for ten men to sleep in and do their cooking. We stayed there all winter.

In the spring I took my family south to Payson, Utah County, while the army marched through Camp Floyd. I built a house in Payson. My nearest neighbors were Hezekiah Thatcher and William Booker Preston, later Bishop Preston. When Johnston's Army was stationed at Camp Floyd, I in company with Mr. Bellingston went out there and made dobies for barracks for the Army. We also hauled cedar for firewood and sold it to the Quartermaster. We would camp in the cedars and make a load each day. In l859, I moved to Moroni, Sanpete County. We lived there until l854, but I am ahead of my story.

While in Salt Lake City our son Robert was born on March 6, l855. He was our fifth son. We used to say Robert was our first son born in the covenant as not long before he was born we were privileged to go to the Endowment House and receive our blessings and sealing. On October 22, l857, our sixth son Nicholas Welch Crookston was born in Salt Lake City.

While in Sanpete County, our eldest son George died on March 6, l862. This was our greatest sorrow. Ann never seemed hardly reconciled to losing her bonny, blue eyed boy and as for myself it was a real bereavement.

While at that little settlement we made some very close friends who were our neighbors. One family in particular was the family of N. L. Christensen. They were more like relatives than just friends. Also the Coveys and Lutzes and others. Ann was a member of the choir.

Benjamin Franklin Crookston was born October 22, l860 at Moroni, Sanpete County. David Crookston was born also at Moroni, Sanpete County, October 24, l862.

While living at Moroni, I was persuaded to go north to Cache Valley by Hezekiah Thatcher and his sons. They had visited the valley and said it was a fine valley with a beautiful townsite, the coming city of Logan, through which flowed the Logan River. The people were digging canals and they wanted to build a flour mill and wanted me to go with them to do quarry and mason work. I came to Cache Valley and liked the looks of it fine. I also was very glad to meet some of my old friends and fellow travelers. I went back to Moroni and told my wife about the place. She did not seem to be very enthused about leaving Moroni. Of course, it was hard to be moving around about every three or four years. I could see that she was getting tired of it, but I thought we would be better fixed after awhile, and I liked the prospect fine, so we got ready to travel. We were very sorry to leave our good neighbors and also the grave of our boy. We paid a visit to my brother George who was then living at American Fork, also my sister Janet Hutchison.

(This is as far as Robert Crookston got with his history. The following is written by Mary Crookston Farmer, his only daughter.)

Father bought a city lot ten by eighteen rods with a small house of logs upon it. It stood on the ground where the Pala D'Or dance hall now stands. (Later Sears) He bought it from Nathanial Haws. It was in the middle of the block between 2nd and 3rd North, on the west side of Main Street. They had a well.

Soon after my folks settled there father helped to build the old Thatcher flour mill and other buildings. Mother said that when they drove into Logan up Main street going north they were about in front of where the Tabernacle now stands, she said to Father, "Now Rob, where from here are you taking me?" He pointed north about two blocks and said, "You see those big cottonwood trees up there? Well, that's the place." She said, "Well, I hope I'll never move again while I live. I'm tired of it." And she never did.

On October l6, l864 Daniel was born, the ninth son. In l870 on the 7th of April, I, Mary Ann Crookston, was born, making the tenth child. Mother said to me one day, "You ought to be a very nice, good girl, Mary, you know you are the tenth. That should be the tithing." I guess I was quite a little girl, and I thought, "Wouldn't it be awful if they had to pay me in for tithing?" Then the thought came, "Well I won't go. She can just pay one of the boys, she has ten boys now." I guess they did not want to get rid of me as Mother said they were all delighted to have a sister. On the l8th of May l873, Ezra was born, the tenth boy and the eleventh child.

Ezra and I were born in our new house. It was finished in l870. I remember it quite distinctly It was a long house, two rooms in front, a living room at the south and a bedroom on the north, we had a large fireplace, a large kitchen at the back and west and two bedrooms upstairs. Under the stairs was a closet opening from the living room. I remember that there was a wooden keg in the closet with peaches preserved with the stones in, done in molasses, also crabapples in a big earthen crock. They were very handy, too, with the stems on. Then Mother had watermelon preserves and potawatomy plums. Mother also had lots of dried apples, plums, sweet corn, and beans. I neglected to mention that we had lots of native currants, black and yellow.

They used to clean them, then scald them a little to set the juice, then spread them out to dry. We used to parch corn on the kitchen stove in a frying pan. If we could get any sweet corn we thought we had a treat. Nothing went to waste in those days. When there would be a squash cut up to cook for pie or baking we would get the seeds, and dry them to eat by the fireside.

I remember while we lived in that house Rob brought home a small harp, or lyre. It hung on a nail on the wall above an old lounge which could be drawn out large enough for a double bed. At night we had gray linsey sheets for winter which Mother had spun the yarn for. I remember her walking back and forth pulling the wool out. I used to wonder how she got it so fine without it breaking, which it did sometimes. She would pause and take up the ends and splice it, then go on with her singing to the hum of the gib wheel. Maybe the song would be, "I'll hang my harp on a willow tree" or "Gentle Annie" or "Love Not " or "The Mistletoe Bough" or perhaps a hymn. She seemed to have an unlimited supply. It seemed to me that my Mother was just a little smarter than any of the women whom I knew. She used to have a lot of herbs hanging in bunches to dry; dandelion hops, sage, plantain, burdock, catnip, mullen, peppermint, spearmint, elder, oldman, parsley, yarrow, tansy, and a lot more. If anyone came to her complaining of an ailment she would fix up something or tell them how to prepare it for themselves.

I remember high piles of logs at the back of the house, and the boys would saw a great block off and split it for the stove or fireplace. They used to bring in a large piece they called the back log and put it at the back, then build a fire in front of it. The log would burn all night and sometimes longer. Mother had candles on the mantle place, and lots of times we did not need them, the fire was so bright. I've seen Mother making those candles many times. I've also seen her make a light for the boys to take upstairs with just a little tallow on a saucer with a little bit of white rag in for a wick.

She used to try to have new stockings for us for Christmas. I remember mine had striped legs of gray and red or black and red. She could read and knit at the same time, and she did read a great deal. It was worthwhile reading, consisting or history, standard novels such as Scott's Waverly novels, Dickens, and anything worthy of reading. She took some of the first church publications: Juvenile, Woman's Exponent, and Deseret News.

Robert Crookston house

Whenever she was able we had a good garden. Father was a careful gardener and had one of the best in the neighborhood. He could always thin out a nice bunch of green onions and carrots for soup for anyone who needed them and never took pay for them.

About the new house, Mother loved the log house and thought it good enough. She said she did not want it pulled down, but my older brothers wanted a frame one and were willing to go to the canyon and get out the timber. Brother Nick had been working with a Mr. Gen Clough, a builder, for quite awhile and had gotten experience as a carpenter, so they built the new house and I thought it was a wonder. It had a large front sitting room, a bedroom, clothes closet in front, a large kitchen with a porch on the south, a pantry and another small room on the north. The kitchen was very convenient, in fact, we almost lived in it. It had two windows on the west, one on the south, built in bookshelves on the south, a sink and kitchen table by the pantry on the northwest, a little built in nook over the sink for spices and other little things, a large cupboard for the china and other tall things, a nice corner to sit with a big rocker and a lounge, a dining table in the center, and a wainscoting about three feet high all around the room. The big kitchen stove stood on the west side between the two windows. All the housework was done on the side with the sink. Mother planned the room, she wanted to be able to get a meal without going in front of anyone when they were sitting down if they were all at home. I can see her in my memory going to and from the stove to the pantry or cupboard preparing supper. She would start up a hymn or a song in her sweet soprano, we would all join her, and there were enough of us to make a chorus. When I think of it now it seems like a little bit of heaven. We had two bedrooms upstairs and a wide landing large enough for a bed and a clothes closet. The house was trimmed with a lot of scroll work and painted tan and white. I thought we had the prettiest house in town. We had some beautiful box elder trees on the lawn and always there was a good swing beneath a large tree. South of the house was a well from a spring which was always cold and clear and plentiful all the year round. On the front was a portico over which grew a Virginia creeper. There were lots of hollyhocks, purple lilacs and other shrubs.

We had another well for the cattle and horses at the back under another tree near the barn. We had a shed in the garden with several hives of bees and nearly always we had plenty of honey.

Father raised sugar cane and we could make molasses candy all winter and pop corn. The south porch was a nice place to sit of a summer evening. Another big tree hung over it. There was a large barn at the back of the lot and quite often the boys made their beds up on the loft on the hay. It usually had plenty of hay for comfort. We always had chickens to furnish our eggs and a couple of pigs to kill in winter and also a cow and horses.

In l880 he contracted to do the rock work on the upper canal along the face of the mountain, using his sons to help. This was a two year job. In l882 he established a rock quarry in Logan Canyon, on the north side east of the powerhouse spillway. He helped construct the Logan Temple. He walked to work, back and forth from his home on North Main Street in Logan to the quarry until he was 80 years old. About that time, l900, other building material became available, thus lessening the demand for rock.

He worked as a stone mason on the Tabernacle, Temple, 4th Ward and Mendon church buildings a great deal, donating his work. He built rock homes, some of them still stand in Logan, Mendon and Wellsville. The Thatcher Mill, Relic Hall and three rock houses on second and third west, which I know of, are still intact.

Robert Crookston at 90

He homesteaded a rock quarry by the side of the mountain where the Utah Power and Light Plant is now. He built a small shack there. He worked in the rock quarry until he was over 80 years of age and most of the time he walked up there and back every day. He sold the site to the Hercules Power Co. to build an electric power plant about l897 but kept the right to quarry rock. He only got $200.00 for the site. About l905 cement was shipped in and used and they stopped quarrying rock.

Ann died in 1904. From the age of 80 until he was 90, Robert was at his home, rather retired, tending his garden and church. His health was generally good, he never had to have a doctor. As years passed on, his hearing and sight grew impaired. His daughter Mary and her husband Pleasant Farmer lived with him and took care of his needs until they moved to Bancroft, Idaho. Then he moved in with his son Nicholas.

He passed away on September 2l, l9l6, on his 95th birthday, at his son’s home in North Logan. He is buried in the Logan Cemetary.

This history can be found in the Utah State University Special Collection. Thanks to Grandma Melva for sharing it with us. If you are interested in reading it in it entirety or to see the scanned handwritten copy please email jay.shelley at gmail dot com.