JOSEPH JACKSON

(1852-1935)

My father, Joseph Jackson, was born in Leicestershire, England, April 2, 1852. He came to America with his younger brother William, when he was nineteen years of age. He lived with his mother’s brother, Joseph Argyle, in Bountiful, Utah until he could earn enough money to send for his mother and the rest of his brothers and sisters, who had been baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His father was baptized some years later and joined the family in Utah.

At a very early age he had been apprenticed to a contractor and builder in England, where he learned the trades of brickmaking, building and architecture. This early training was a great help to the two boys, who at a very early age had the responsibility of caring for and moving the large family to a far country.

With his mother and the younger children came his boyhood sweetheart, Prudence Phillips, and they were married July 7, 1873 and moved to Ogden, Utah. There he had more work than he could do. Soon he had many men working for him, besides his three younger brothers who were old enough by his time to help. Soon he had contracts for buildings in Salt Lake City, as well as in Bountiful and Ogden. He built City Hall and Wright’s Store in Ogden, a home for President Lorenzo Snow in Salt Lake City, and many others. His family grew and he and his wife had nine children.

The pioneers suffered much for the lack of medical care. There were not enough doctors to care for the sick in times of epidemics and many died. Such an epidemic came to Ogden and many died. In father’s family, six of his nine children were stricken and died. The parents were heartbroken and for months were almost unable to bear their grief. One night father prayed for the Lord to send him comfort and help him to understand. He went to sleep and had a beautiful dream. He felt he was being carried upwards. Soon he came to a beautiful garden, and in the distance he saw a beautiful cottage. He continued until he neared the cottage. On the grass in front of the house he saw a group of children sitting in a circle with a beautiful young lady, who seemed to be teaching them. As he drew near them, the teacher arose and came smiling toward him. He recognized her as Mary Talmage, who had died soon after reaching America. She asked him why he had come and told him to step nearer the children. As he did so, he saw his six children seated with many others. They came running to him and hugged him. They said, “Papa, please don’t cry for us, we are so happy here and we are learning so much.” Then the dream slowly faded away and with it went the heavy feeling in his heart. Many times he told us that nothing could have been more real to him. His grief left him and all was well.

Those were the days of polygamy, and Father was among those who embraced the principle. With the consent of his first wife, he married my mother, Mary Ann Stowell, on November 22, 1887, daughter of William Rufus Rogers Stowell and Sophronia Kelly. Soon after this marriage, trouble began that sent many of these families on the “underground.” When this trouble began, it was too much for his first wife, and she made trouble for him. So he sold his business and property in Utah, and moved with my mother to Mexico where the authorities of the Church had arranged for land and a place for them to live and build their homes.

Here Father began a new life for himself and family. They had a daughter, Mary Ann, and a son Joseph. He tried many ventures, but finally built a gristmill on property bought from former Governor Luis Terrazas, of Chihuahua. There was a spring in the foothills above an old mill site that had been used by Indians or very early settlers. This mill consisted of two large heavy stones about six feet across and a foot thick. They turned in opposite directions, grinding corn or what they used for food. The stones were laying on a sort of stand holding them up off the ground, leaving a place for the ground grain to fall. The building was long and wide and built with very thick adobe walls.

Father built his new building a short distance from the old mill. He used the water from the spring to run it. This way he made our living. Later he planted a vineyard near the old mill site and we lived in three rooms adjoining it. The house was very comfortable because the walls were very thick, cool in the summer and warm in the winter. We lived about three miles from Colonia Dublan and a mile north of Casas Grandes.

They lost their first two children there with typhoid fever. In those early days there were no doctors, only women who served as midwives and did all they could wherever there was sickness. Smallpox was also a dreaded disease in those early days. My father became a victim of it and nearly died with it.

In a few years when we were older, he sold the mill to Brother James Memmott and we moved to Colonia Juarez where he built a carpenter factory. He also did considerable building. He built the first building that served as a meeting house and a school house for many years. He later built a large white stone house for our home. It was not quite finished when he was called on a mission to England. He hired the McClellan brothers to finish it and move us into it. He also sold his furniture factory to Brother McClellan.

After serving two years in the mission field, he was advised by President Anthony W. Ivins to take a third wife. He then married Maria Jones Ray, daughter of F. W. Jones, who was having a struggle to care for herself and two children by an earlier marriage to Milton Ray, who had deserted her then gone to Mexico City where he soon died. Soon after this marriage all such marriages were stopped, but men were allowed to keep and support the families they already had.

By the time he was released from the mission, Brother Memmott’s health had become poor and he had to give up the mill. So Father sold their home in Juarez to Apostle John W. Taylor, who was moving most of his family to Mexico.

After selling our home we moved to a farm he still owned, about a mile from the mill. Auntie Maria was moved to the mill. They had four children and raised the two she already had. Almost everything he had was sold to keep him on his mission and take care of Mother and the children while he was away. So he had to start all over, with the added care of a new family.

We lived on this farm and orchard for a year and the five older children of the two families attended school in Casas Grandes, where we all learned to read and write Spanish. The next year Mother and all her children, including Auntie’s two older ones, moved to Colonia Dublan where we could go to our own school. We lived there and went to school and Father and Auntie lived at the mill. This is where we were living when the Revolution broke out. About this time mother gave birth to triplets, two boys and a girl, the little girl lived only two weeks. The war kept getting worse until we were told to leave the country with all the rest of the women, children and older men.

Father was at his mill with Auntie and her family. Word was sent to him that the people were leaving, but he was forced to stay with his family to run the mill for the Mexican Army. They took everything he had. Then they locked him in prison to force him to tell where he had more grain hidden. He didn’t have any. He was beaten and locked in a filthy room overnight. With help he got out the next day, and finally succeeded in leaving in the night with his family for the United States border. They finally made their way, taking a cross-country route, away from the roads and beaten trails.

Sometime later he returned to look after his property, but found they had burned the mill and his house. He sold what was left of his land, and moved to Ogden, Utah, with his third wife Maria and unmarried children.

There he bought the same brickyard he had owned as a young man. The work was too heavy for him and the responsibility too much. So as soon as the children were married and Maria died, his second wife Mary Ann, who had stayed in El Paso, went to Ogden to care for him until the last children were married. They moved to El Paso and he died April 13, 1935, and Mary Ann died April 25, 1943. They were both buried in El Paso, Texas.

Harriet Viola Jackson Stevens, daughter

Stalwarts South of the Border, page 318

Nelle Spilsbury Hatch,