Tag Archives: Apache Indians

Charles Whiting Sr.

1852-1917

Charles Whiting Sr. was born in Manti, Sanpete County, Utah on December 16, 1852. He was the third child of Edwin and his third wife, Mary Elizabeth Cox, in a family of nine children. Although the mother of Charles Whiting, Mary Cox Whiting, was a school teacher who taught in the small settlements in Utah where they lived, Charles had to help on the farm and did not get much education.

He advanced as far as what was called in those days The Third Grade Reader. However, Charles loved to read and was self-educated. His own children loved to hear him read in the evenings by the fireplace such books as Swiss Family Robinson, Robinson Crusoe, and Horatio Alger’s Ragged Dick.

His father, Edwin, and his first three wives crossed the plains after being driven out of their homes in Nauvoo, Illinois, in 1849. They stopped at Mount Pisgah for a time where Edwin’s father and mother, Elisha and Sally Hulet Whiting died. Then Edwin and his family moved on to the Salt Lake Valley, tired and wary from their long trek. Brigham Young sent them on to Sanpete Valley, now Manti, and there Charles was born. His father married two other women while at Manti, making a total of five wives.

Edwin, who was a horticulturist, found that Manti was too cold for his business so he moved his families back to Hobble Creek Canyon (now Springville) where the climate was milder and there Charles grew up. He met and married Verona Snow who also was born in Manti on March 27, 1859. They were married in the Endowment House in Salt Lake City on January 24, 1876. Verona was a bride of only three weeks when Charles was called, along with about 300 other men, to go to Arizona and settle along the Little Colorado in northern Arizona. These men tried farming, but when they drew irrigation water onto the land it turned to alkali. So Charles Whiting, along with J.J. Adams tried raising cattle, but the country was infested with horse thieves and outlaws of the worst kind who stole their stock and made life miserable for them. By this time Church Authorities had organized the United Order, one camp being called Brigham City near the site of Winslow, Arizona. Not far from Brigham City was another called Sunset which was presided over by Lot Smith.

While living in the Order, Charles Whiting, with other men, was called by the authorities of the Church to take a plural wife. This was necessary because there were more women than men who needed protection in the wild, lawless country. So with the consent of his wife, Verona, Charles was married and sealed to Amy Irene Porter in the St. George Temple on December 1, 1880. She bore him two children. Soon after this the Order broke up and Charles with his two wives moved to a little settlement called Wilford in Navajo County, near Snowflake, Arizona. There two more children were born.

In the mid-1880’s they were advised by the leaders of the Church to take their wives and move to Mexico where they would be safe under the Mexican flag as they believed that it was not unlawful for a man to have more than one wife in Mexico. After they moved into the state of Chihuahua early in 1885, another son, Francis Marion, was born to Charles and Verona on May 8, 1885. He was the first child born in Colonia Diaz and had a wagon box for a bed. Just a little later a townsite was chosen and Colonia Diaz was established and named for Porfirio Diaz who was the President of Mexico at that time. Charles was sustained as the First Presiding Elder of the little Branch or camp.

In 1886, Bishop William Derby Johnson, Jr. was made the first Bishop with Martin P. Mortensen and Joseph H. James as his first two Counselors. Later Charles Whiting and Peter K. Lemmon filled these positions and served until July 11, 1911 when bishop Johnson was released and Ernest Romney was made Bishop.

The summer of 1886, Charles and Verona went back to the White Mountains of Arizona to get some of their belongings and some of their stock which they had left. Amy stayed with friends while they were gone. When they returned to Mexico in the fall they were accompanied by Joseph S. Cardon and family.

When the Whitings reached Taylor, Arizona, where Joseph Cardon and the rest of the company were waiting, they were alarmed to find that word had come from the United States officials at Fort Apache that the fierce Indian Chief Geronimo had broken loose from the Fort with a band of his braves, swearing to kill every white man they could find. People were advised to stay at home and not run the risk of traveling until Geronimo could be captured and subdued again. Their journey was halted for only a few days, however, for when they conferred with the officials at Fort Apache they were told that if they had quite a number in their party they might be safe because there were soldiers from the Fort trying to hunt down and capture the renegade chief and his band. So they took the risk and started out.

They passed Fort Apache unharmed and went on to the Black River Crossing, intending to camp there that night. But as Brother Cardon was watering his horses on the bank of the river he saw Geronimo on the opposite side. As Geronimo saw Brother Cardon he grunted, turned his horse and rode up the bank among the trees. Joseph then went to Charles and told him what he had seen so they decided that it would be better for them to go on up the dugway, after crossing the river, and camp on the top of the mountain. They said nothing to the women for fear of exciting them, and the party proceeded. The evening meal had been prepared and before eating they all knelt around the fire in prayer, which was their habit. But now, of course, they realized that they needed the protection of their Heavenly Father in their dangerous situation. While the prayer was being said a little Indian dog ran into their camp and another could be seen a short distance off. The horses became excited and they knew Indians were near. After prayer the men took their guns and crawled in the brush out of camp to investigate. It was a bright moonlit night and they could see Geronimo with his braves huddled together in a little clearing in the trees as if in consultation. The men crept back to their camp and stood guard all night. The women put the children to bed in the wagons, and went to bed also, but they could not sleep. The men stayed up all night and stood guard with their guns ready, prepared to defend themselves in case of an attack. But morning came and they were not molested. Being such a bright moonlit night they could see the Indians as they rode up over the hills in the distance, their silhouettes plainly drawn against the sky.

The next morning they met soldiers from the fort who told them that at Black River Crossing where they had earlier planned to camp, a boy and a man had been murdered, scalped and their wagons burned. At Deer Creek, just three miles away, three sheepherders had been killed. All the way to Mexico they heard of depredations and murders both ahead of and behind them. They never knew why their lives were spared until their relatives wrote from Taylor, Arizona that a squaw came back to the Fort and told the people there that Geronimo had intended to kill their group, but when he saw them praying to the Great Spirit he was afraid to do so.

On June 13, 1886 Charles’s second wife, Amy Irene, passed away and in September 1886 her little daughter Linnie followed her in death. Charles then felt like he would prefer to go back to Springville, Utah, because now he had only one wife, but the leaders of the Church called him to stay in Mexico to help build up that part of the country. Consequently, in 1889 he was married to Anna Eliza Jacobson. To this union were born six children.

Charles was always a faithful Latter-day Saint. When he was driven from Mexico in 1912, he lost all he had except the teams he drove out, but he did not owe one dollar to anyone. He had always been a faithful tithe payer, and served faithfully in every Church office that he was called to accept. He lived faithfully and kept the Word of Wisdom in every detail. He was a quiet man, passive and patient in disposition, a peacemaker, always hating trouble with his fellowman. Not caring to be a leader, he always liked to be in the background. He was very modest, kind and patient with his children and was a man of few works. He never punished his children severely but they knew that when he corrected them or told them to do something that he meant what he said and that he expected obedience. The held him in high esteem.

For a time Charles was engaged in the cattle business because there had been an abundance of moisture and the range for cattle was especially good. He was prospering and doing well financially, but because his two oldest sons became involved in with unsavory characters, cowboys and outlaws who sought refuge from the United States law south of the border, he sold his cattle at a sacrifice and made farming as a main occupation. Colonia Diaz was so close to the border that many rough, bad men drifted in. There was also the problem of La Ascension, just five miles across the river from Colonia Diaz, where liquor of all kinds could be purchased with no restrictions as to youth. This had a bad influence on the community. Charles and Verona decided that if their oldest son, Charlie, who had always been a well-behaved boy, could be led off by bad company, the rest of their sons and those of the second family of Charles were also vulnerable.

After they left Mexico, Verona went with her daughter Amy and family to St. Johns, Arizona. Charles stayed with his third wife, Eliza, close to the border. His sons, Charlie and Bernard, also stayed as did Ezreal Thurber, Amy’s husband, to see if they could get some of their property out of Mexico. They did manage to slip into Diaz to bring out a few articles of furniture and some of their horses and cattle.

Charles and Eliza lived in a little shack at Franklin, Arizona and one day while they were gone it caught fire and was burned to the ground. All they had left were the clothes they were wearing. People were very kind and got up a collection for them. The Bishop of the Ward brought Charles $100 in cash. He said all his life he had paid his tithing and fast offerings and this $100 received back from the Lord’s storehouse helped him more than any gift he had ever received, for it came when he was really in need. He moved to St. Johns the next spring and his brother Edwin and his nephew Eddie gave them employment. His mother had passed away just before they were driven out of Mexico. She owned two city lots n St. Johns and the brothers of Charles felt like she would want him to have them so they were deeded to him and lumber was available from his brother Edwin’s sawmill. Consequently two lumber houses were soon built on them, one for Verona and one for Eliza.

Charles freighted for his brother and sons. At first he sawed timber for them with his son-in-law Junius Cardon. The later he hauled grain and other freight including lumber from his brother’s sawmill in the mountains.

On his 64^th birthday, December 16, 1916, the family gave him a surprise party. He had remarked when the youngsters were celebrating their birthdays that he would soon be 64 years old and had never had a party in his life, so we surprised him. His nephew, Eddie Whiting, brought him a big armchair from the store. He received other nice gifts but did not live long to enjoy them. One day about a year later, while hauling grain from Springerville to St. Johns, his horses became frightened of a dead horse lying by the side of the road. He had a team of draft horses that were high-spirited and not very well broken. The team lunged and pulled him off the load. He fell under the wagon and one wheel ran over his head, crushing his skull. He died instantly. This was on December 20, 1917. His son Bernard was freighting with him just ahead on the road.

This was a terrible tragedy to his families who were dependent on him for support, but his love and kindness was the thing that was missed more than anything else. He had always had a hard life. Yet, he had always lived within his means. He was never rich in worldly goods but had, through the years, built two good brick homes for his two families and owned two farms all paid for. Then when the Revolutionists drove the colonists out of Mexico, he had to leave everything.

Never did he receive one penny for any of his property in Colonia Diaz. But he never complained. He always was a peacemaker, disliking bickering and trouble. He was also talented but very modest about it. We loved to hear him sing with his melodious voice. Although he never wanted to display any of his dramatic ability he was amusing to listen to, especially when he would joke and tell things about the English. His wife Verona was English and he liked to tease her about her nationality. His talent was passed on to some of his children.

His children revere the memory of their dear father who was a shining example of righteousness, patience, ambition and kindness.

Mae Whiting Cardon, daughter.

Nelle Spilsbury Hatch Stalwarts South of the Border page 772

Sarah Ann Lunt

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Sarah Ann Lunt

1858-1921

Sarah Ann Lunt, my mother and the daughter of Edward and Harriet Wood Lunt, was born in Manti, Utah August 11, 1858. Her family later moved to Nephi, where she grew up. She early learned to spin, card and weave clothes for the needs of the family which consisted of four brothers, two sisters, and her parents.

The two older brothers were stockmen and Mother spent much time cooking for them on their ranches. She was unusual in that she knew no fear of man or beast. At one time while on the ranch an angry steer attempted to gore her and she felled him with a stone. Her formal schooling amounted to very little. She often said, “If my school days were all summed up, they would not exceed three weeks.” Yet, she learned to read and did all her own letter writing.

Henry Lunt, my father, often called on my grandfather at Nephi on his way to and from Salt Lake City to conference. One morning in the spring of 1877, returning from conference, he in Nephi for a visit. In the meantime, his team turned short and broke out the wagon tongue. Getting it repaired delayed his journey for hours, making it possible for my mother and father to get acquainted. The next time Father passed that way, he took Mother with him and they were married January 16, 1878, in the St. George Temple.

Sarah Ann Lunt immediately took control of the hotel in Cedar City. Aunt Mary Ann and Aunt Ellen, my father’s other wives, had previously taken care of the work but were not at an age of delicate health and could no longer carry on. They also had the telegraph office to look after and Aunt Ellen was kept busy with that. She was one of Utah’s first telegraph operators. The hotel and stage line were the main source of support for the entire family which consisted of Father, who was almost blind, Aunt Mary Ann, Aunt Ellen, Mother and some 20 children.

Things went well until the raids on polygamy began. Father took Aunt Ellen and went to England as a missionary for two years to avoid the law. After coming home, things were no better. So, Apostle Erastus Snow said to Mother, “Sarah Ann Lunt, it is our job to take your husband and go to Old Mexico.” Where you can acquire land as a place of refuge. We have talked to President Porfirio Diaz and he is willing to allow us to live our religion. We can build up and beautify the country. Diaz says his people are in need of being taught a better way of living and doing things. Other people are there and two settlements are already established, Colonia Diaz and Colonia Juarez.”

In response, Mother said, “Brother Snow, do you know what you are asking of me? This hotel is the only means of support for the entire family. Brother Lunt is blind and I am the only one in the family who is able to run it. We have no means and my oldest son is only eight years old.” He said, “Sister Lunt, I feel it is the will of god that you should go, and the Lord will open the way if you will but obey.” Mother prayed and fasted and thought the thing over until Apostle Snow came again. Mother was strong willed and did not act until she knew it was right.

We left Cedar City later in the evening of November 26, 1887. There were no farewells. Only the most trusted friends knew we had gone. Our party consisted of Father, Mother, Edgerton, Broughton, Parley and Edward. We took the southern route by way of “Dixie.” We went through Toquerville on to Virgin City and up a canyon called North Creek, where a family by the name of Sanders lived. It was great grape country. I will never forget the pickled grapes put down in barrels. I have never seen any since like them.

We found lodging in a two-room log house which had been used by campers as an old junk house. One of mother’s first discoveries there was that all we children were lousy. I well remember the days of scrubbing and cleaning until the pests were exterminated. Then came the measles. The remedy was sheep berry tea. It did all that any highly advertised patent medicine could do. It cured the measles. While there, we boys learned how to make slat quail traps. Father bought us a sack of wheat for bait and we climbed the sunny hillsides and found bare spots where the snow had melted off, made a trail of wheat leading to the trap, then waited for the catch. How happy we were one morning to find we had caught 13 quail in one trap. How well I remember the quail pie that night.

When the weather permitted, we moved on. We arrived in February, 1888 at Moccasin Springs, Arizona where we stayed at a stock ranch operated by Christopher Heaton. My brother, Heaton, was born there. When he was three weeks old we journeyed on, going by way of Kanab over the Buckskin Mountains to House Rock. My half-brother Oscar joined us at Pipe Springs and brought the white topped buggy. We loaded the bedding and provisions and needed camp equipment in the buggy where Mother and the children rode. The heavier goods were loaded on the big wagon. On acquiring the new fresh team and hitching them to the buggy, Mother thought it safer to ride on the heavy wagon. But even then, when going down a steep rocky hill, Mother was thrown from the wagon with the baby. In trying to protect the baby in the fall, Mother hurt her ankle quite badly. Father had her sit on a stone and he administered to her. She recovered sufficiently to continue the journey although she remained lame for months.

Mother had a natural horror of crossing the Colorado River at Lee’s Ferry. Just a short time before we crossed, a man was drowned while attempting to cross. We had to cross at the upper ferry and it necessitated going over Lee’s Backbone, a very dangerous steep mountain. I will never forget as we started down the ridge with steep canyons on both the north and the south sides, Oscar fell from the wagon, lodging on the tugs of the team on his back. The brake came off and the horses were unable to control the wagon. No matter which way it went it meant certain destruction. Luckily, Oscar regained control and all was well. On the river, men had to hold the wagon from tipping into the water.

From the Colorado to the Little Colorado is a barren waste with but little water. Most of what water was obtained had lodged in the holes in the rocks and had been there for months. Sheep had also watered at these holes and the liquid was very yellow and brackish. It always had to be boiled and some substitute flavoring added to be used at all. On reaching the Little Colorado we had a new experience. The horses were nearly famished with thirst and, seeing the water, plunged into it and sank deep in quicksand. After a great deal of exertion we finally got them out. We then traveled up the river to Winslow, Holbrook, and Joseph City, Arizona. We then went on to Snowflake and Pinedale where we stayed that summer and rented six acres of land.

Brothers Freeman and Flake let us milk a few of their range cows. Mother did the milking while the boys herded the cows and calves. The Apache Indians were not under thorough control and often broke off the reservation. We remained in Pinedale or Fish’s Ranch the winter of 1888 and I went to school at Pinedale a mile away. Joseph Smith of Snowflake was the teacher. He lived at the Fish Ranch also. Many a morning I held to one fork of his swallow tailed coat to keep from being lost in the snow as we trudged on our way to school. The summer of 1889, Aunt Annie came with her family and joined us at Pinedale with one more wagon and a team. She then took the buggy back to Cedar City. In September the rest of us took up the journey again to Mexico.

Near Show Low, a man by the name of Jeff Adams and his wife fell in with us. After traveling with us for several days, they pulled on alone and left us. The next morning, our best horse could not be found and we spent the entire day looking for him, but all in vain. That made it necessary to use one of the saddle ponies as a work horse and one boy had to walk and drive cows. In time we reached Pima on the Gila River when we camped near Franklin Scott. He had arrived some months before and had raised a small crop. He was also on his way to Mexico. Here we found our first sweet potatoes, and were they good! They grew so prolific that George went to help a man dig them on shares and found one so large that he sat on one end and put the other end in the fire to cook.

While on the Gila, Christopher Heaton, Warriner Porter and John Walser joined us with two to four families each. From then until we reached Colonia Diaz, sometime in December, 1889, our camp looked like the children of Israel in the wilderness. We would build a big fire at night. Then we children would play while the older folks would sing hymns, relate past experiences, speak of their future hopes, etc. Then we would all be called to order and Brother Walser would lead in a hymn. We would all kneel in our large circle and some of the men would pour out their souls to God for blessings of the day and ask Him to bless and watch over us and our animals as we slept. All the Porter and Heaton families came down with sore eyes and that spoiled our good play at night. I can see them still in memory bathing and trying to get their matted eyes open of a morning.

We finally reached Deming, New Mexico, a railroad town before crossing in Mexico. There we stocked up on a few things we needed, as far as our meager means allowed. Until then, we had not had a stove to cook on since we left Cedar City, nor a bestead outside of what we had made. The only furniture we had was one red and one green chair which had been made in Utah with rawhide for the seats. At Deming, father bought two cast iron cook stoves, one for each of his wives. They were still in using them when we left Mexico. He also bought two rockers, and I think a half dozen chairs. This was the sum total of the furniture we owned. We did have plenty of good homemade quilts and plenty of empty ticks which we filled with corn husks after we raised corn. We also had three feather beds and several pillows. Until the first corn crop was harvested in Pacheco, we used pine needles or pulled wild grass to fill the bed ticks.

Upon arriving in Colonia Diaz, we had to leave the only team of horses we had. They were old and nothing but mares could go on from there duty free. We also had to leave one of the cows which became too weak to travel. From Juarez to Pacheco was the end of the journey, as the notorious San Diego Canyon had to be scaled. We managed to acquire the assistance of lumber haulers who went up empty to get lumber. We arrived on what was the town site of Pacheco just as the sun was setting in the west. It had been previously surveyed and laid off into city lots, each lot containing one and one-fourth acres with wide streets and a small alley running through the blocks both ways to avoid corrals being built on the main street.

There were two small houses built of logs on the town site when we arrived, one owned by George Haws and the other by Alexander F. Macdonald, the latter being the surveyor. The town was built on a small mesa of about 200 acres, falling away to the south. A high mountain of 1800 feet to the west and a box canyon 100 feet deep on the east bracketed the town. The canyon was cut our of solid volcanic rock by the Piedras Verdas River which drained the beautiful yellow pine timber, and provided a living for most occupants of the town by affording lumber for telephone posts, railroad ties, mining timbers, and juniper fence posts. The lowlands afforded small fertile farms and grazing lands. The town proved to be a very rocky piece of ground, after the abundant grass was gone, which served as a beautiful garment when we first arrived.

We arrived in Pacheco on January 21, 1890. The next day was a busy one. We cut logs, made cribs about two feet high, then put up a ridgepole over which we stretched our wagon covers and gathered pine needles upon which we spread our quilts for beds, making as many as four children beds in each shelter. Late in the evening of the first day, one of John C. Naegle’s sons arrived at our camp with a load of lumber he had brought from a sawmill in Cave Valley and gave it to us. We used it to make a spacious kitchen and dining room by lashing a pole between two pine trees and leaning one end of the boards against the poles and letting the other end rest on the ground. This we called “the shanty.” George went to take some of the horses “off to the park” as we called it, a small valley at the foot of Garcia Knoll, and came home with a deer tied on behind him. He was only 15 and what a hero he was.

Yet other colonists soon arrived: the Scotts, Farnsworth’s, Rowley’s, Cooley’s, Blacks, Heaton’s, Porter’s, Carroll’s and many others. A log school and church house quickly erected. A ditch from Water Canyon was to be dug so we could plant orchards and gardens and have water for culinary purposes. In the meantime, all of our water was either carried or hauled in barrels from streams a mile away.

1891 was a year of severe drought everywhere and food became very scarce. Also it was an early fall and corn did not mature. George went to work on the railroad. Oscar worked at the sawmill and Edgerton went to work for Franklin Spencer. Father, Tom and I hoed corn at home. The only good team of mares we had that had reached Mexico had to be sold to make ends meet. Our suckling colts were killed by mountain lions before the first season was over. We hoed constantly. Father (who was nearly blind) had to be nearby so we could tell him which was corn and which was weeds.

Father always took one day off each week for letter writing. He couldn’t read what he wrote after writing it but by having very heavy lines drown on the paper he could follow them. Parley herded the cows to be sure they would find the best pastures and come safely home each night so that we could obtain the scanty supply of milk they gave. One day while herding cows he was bitten by a black rattler on his little toe. His leg swelled up so tight we were afraid it would burst. We did all we knew for it to no avail until the Lord heard our feeble cry and answered our prayers.

During this time, most who entered the colonies were very destitute. In Pacheco we were the only ones who had corn. The year of 1892 was a desperate one, and flour was not to be bought. The cattle were dying of starvation, but we saved our corn again and had it made into meal. I well remember how people came to borrow the corn or meal not knowing how or when they would be able to return it. I was too young to sense the gravity of the situation but can year yet the conversations that took place whenever our last sack was being dipped into. People would come to Father and say, “Brother Lunt, have you any more meal you could lend me, my family hasn’t a dust of breadstuff in the house.” His reply would be, “Ah dear brother, you will have to see Sarah.” I have heard Mother bear her testimony many times to the fact that she divided down to the last mixing and trusted in the Lord that somehow the way would open so she could feed her own. Just as the last dust was divided, here came Albert Farnsworth in from working on the “Manana (tomorrow) Railroad” with two four-horse wagons of flour. By night, Mother would have 1,000 pounds of flour in her house that had been returned for cornmeal.

In 1895 I went to work for Pleasant Williams for $.50 per day and worked until I had earned $60 for which he gave me a horse. My brother Edgerton also worked for Joshua Stevens at the same price and got another for $50. They were both two years old. We waited a year. Got them up and gentled them and it made us our first real team. The same year, Mother and I and the four youngest children, Heaton, Alma, Owen and Clarence, moved onto the Williams Ranch and rented six acres of land and 15 cows to milk. Edward was in Chihuahua City working for Lucian Mecham and his wife who were running a hotel there. Parley, Father and Tom looked after the farm in Pacheco. In order to do our plowing on the Williams Ranch we borrowed a mule from James Mortensen when he could spare it. Otherwise, Mother and I used the hoe method. We succeeded, however, in raising several tons of potatoes, a few beans and enough corn to fatten two or three big white hogs, a lot of squash and a good garden. We moved back to Pacheco for the winter and school. In those days we would have about three months of school, beginning the first of the year.

In 1897 we bought the Spencer farm at Corrales for $1,000. We also bought a small cheese factory from George C. Naegle and milked some of his cows on shares and some of Helaman Pratt’s. Mother’s cheese became famous right away and found a ready sale. Each year a box of the fruits and vegetables and products of the Mormon colonies was sent to President Porfirio Diaz as a token of our good will to him and our appreciation for letting us live in his nation unmolested. Included in each box was one of Mother’s cheeses.

Laura Ann Hardy Mecham was the first Relief Society President Pacheco had. After she moved away, Mother took her place and served as long as we lived there. During the early days of Pacheco, many of the men died due to exposure and overwork and lack of sufficient food. Examples are William Haws, John McConkie, and John Rowley. These men left large families and people had a hard time of it. Many was the day that a few of the sisters would get together and go over to spend the day with “Aunt Sarah Ann Lunt,” and when the truth was known it was to get a little food as well as have a visit. As I remember, she always had more than anyone else in town to cook. She always had a garden as we had a stream of water at all times of our won. She was a friend to the poor native people of the area as well and they loved her because she never let them go away hungry.

In 1899 our home in Corrales burned down. Since Father and Aunt Ellen were getting along in years, Mother wanted to build a brick house large enough to take care of him them, her own family, and also some spare rooms for passersby, as it seemed there were always lots of travelers in the country looking for accommodations. Mother sent to Helaman Pratt for advice, but he rather discouraged the ideas, thinking it too big a job for her and her boys with the means she had. It didn’t daunt her. We went to work and hired a man who knew how to make brick, put up a brick kiln, worked on the sawmill for our lumber and hired a boy whose father was on a mission to Denmark to lay the brick. We also hired a carpenter and builder. They all did fine work.

The house was a two-story affair, consisting of nine large rooms. We had it finished and paid for in 18 months. Sadly, this was not soon enough for Father to move into because he died on January 22, 1902. Aunt Ellen was then brought over and she died there. Aunt Annie also made her home with us for several years until she decided to live with her daughter Ellen in Pacheco.

The big house being finished and the Noroestre Railroad having been completed as far south as Terrazas, it became possible for Mother to entertain guests. The railroad advertised their road as leading into the Sierra Madre Mountains and as opening up one of the best hunting grounds in America for both small and large game. This brought many people from all over the United States and Europe to hunt. And as Corrales and the Lunt house were on the route where they outfitted and quit the wagon road, my brother George took up the hob as a guide to trappers and hunters and became the most famous guide of his day in Mexico, having trapped as many as seven bear in one week.

Our ranch, being the jumping off place into the unknown wilderness and the only place where people could get hotel accommodations, brought many people of high rank to our home. Including among them were: Theodore Roosevelt, Dr. Smith, who accompanied him on his African hunt. German barons, and English dukes and lord. At one time, William Green, the great Cananea Copper Company owner, brought man of the nation’s great men to the area, including some 27 senators. They all stayed overnight at the Lunt house. Although Mother had no education, she felt as free and at home conversing with these people as she did with her own family.

Mother placed great store by her dreams. She always had a forewarning in a dream before someone died in the community and when she was informed of some sudden death, she would often say, “That is what I saw; it was not quite clear to me, but now it is.” She was a friend to the sick and always had a little medicine and food for the needy. As material for burial clothing was hard to get, especially for members who had been through the temple, I have known her to give her own temple clothing for them to bury someone with.

At the time of the Exodus I was in the Mexican town of Toluca on a mission. The women and children of the colonies went first on a train to El Paso and later the men followed on horseback by way of Hachita, New Mexico. Rey L. Pratt was President of the Mexican Mission at the time. Most of the 22 missionaries in the Mexico City area were from the colonies and many of them had families depending on them. President Pratt, hearing of the colonists all being in El Paso, immediately went there to see what could be done. Mother met him and gave him $50 to give to me, saying, “I want him to say as long as he is needed. We will get along all right.” Although President Pratt declined to accept the money, he mind was made up and he accepted.

In the summer of 1913, she thought it her duty to go back to Mexico and put Clarence and Owen in the Juarez Stake Academy. She was made matron of the Ivins home which had become par to fht eschool and where many outside students lived. The Ivins lots were used as agricultural experiment farms. In 1919, she again returned to Colonia Pacheco, taking Alma and Clarence with her. To go back to the devastated home in Corrales where she had spent so many struggling but happy years was a trial that few women could endure. Her once beautiful home was a pile of rubble with only parts of the walls standing. Fences were gone that once enclosed fertile areas. There was no stock on the range to be looked after or bring in profit, no bawling of calves. All was silent except for the chatter of natives that gathered to greet her. A few homes of her friends had escaped the forest fires that swept the town. But the once beautiful two-story church with its spires to which she had contributed so much was a skeleton with a leaky roof and glassless windows.

Undaunted, she moved into the adobe home of her son Heaton, which had not been destroyed. President Ivins visited them in 1920 and made her youngest son, Clarence Bishop with Harlo Johnson First and William Jarvis Second Counselors. She re-fenced the fields, obtained more cows, and resumed making cheese. She was happy again. To once more be back where her husband and Aunt Ellen were buried was very important to her. She had given her first child to Aunt Ellen who was unable to have any of her own.

The Revolution continued. Firs one man would gain control of the government and then another, and each would print his own money. As the different leaders lost out, their money became valueless. The silver dollar always retained its value, but very few silver dollars could be found. Mother had 45 silver dollars laid away in a baking powder can, hidden in her flour bin, to pay her burial expenses.

During the late summer of 1921 her health failed and she suffered a long sick spell. She again had a dream. In November, for of her sons went to visit her: Broughton, Parley, Edward, and Heaton. We wanted to bring her out to Duncan, Arizona where we resided and could get the aid of a doctor. She declined, saying, “I want to stay right here. If it is the Lord’s will that I should live, He can make me well here, and if my time to die has come, I want to die and be buried here.” She told us she had dreamed of traveling and entering a deep canyon and as she traveled the walls became higher and steeper, until she reached a point where it looked as though she could go no farther. Just as she was about to give up going any father, it suddenly opened up into a beautiful valley. She said, “I don’t know whether it means I am going to get well or pass to the other side.” She felt sure there would be a sudden change for the better. Our visit did her good.

After coming home for three weeks we received a telegram from President John T. Whetten telling us that Mother was worse. So Edward, Chloe, Heaton’s wife, and myself went back to her bedside, knowing that we would bury her before we returned. We arrived at her bedside on Christmas Eve and watched over her until 6:00 pm on the 27^th when she died with father’s name on her lips, gazing heavenward.

Being a carpenter, I took some of the boards my mother used to cure her cheese on and made her casket. Chloe and Lavetta lined it with white bleaching and the Johnson girls trimmed it with lace inside and out. On the 29^th she was buried on the left side of her husband, Henry Lunt. Aunt Ellen, his first wife, had been buried on his right side. We dedicated the spot and poured out our souls in gratitude to God that he had given us such noble, God-fearing parents.

Broughton Lunt

Stalwarts South of the Border, Nelle Spilsbury Hatch, page 413

James Elbert Whetten

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James Elbert “Bert” Whetten

1881-1969

James Elbert Whetten was born July 18, 1881 in Snowflake, Arizona. He was the second son of John Thomas and Belzora Savage Whetten. His father kept a stable where the mail and passenger coach from Holbrook to Fort Apache changed horses.

Bert was five years old when the renegade Indian, Geronimo, was captured and carried to Fort Apache. He and his brother John climbed up where they could look into the big Government wagon and saw him chained to the bottom of it. They really looked him over.

James Elbert was seven years old when his father sold out in Snowflake, preparatory to the move to Mexico. They made the trip in company with John Kartchner and were two months enroute. They settled in Cave Valley where a Ward had already been organized. There Bert was baptized when he was eight years old by his father. Life was hard for the first few years, with little to eat but corn dodger, molasses, and greens, which they were glad to get. His father was a good provider but had to work hard and be on the lookout for every opportunity to improve their situation.

He was 11 years old when the Apache Kid, reputed to be Geronimo’s son, killed the Thompson family at Williams’ Ranch, only two miles from Cave Valley. This put fear into the hearts of all, especially young boys who had to ride the range to keep cattle rounded up. His father had taken a herd of 500 cows to run on shares with a man in Colonia Diaz. Bert had gone along to help move the herd onto what is now the Villa Ranch on the Gavilan. “And that was some job,” he said. But taking care of this growing herd, and keeping them from straying on an open range, was a bigger task. Bert and his brother John kept at this job early and late. They milked cows and took care of the milk. They were not afraid of Mexicans, nor of Americans, many of whom were in the hills prospecting, but Indians were something else.

Bob Lewis, claiming to be a prospector, came into their camp one day and they welcomed him as added protection against the Indians. Little did they know that his friendly approach and his apparent interest in two lonely boys was the greatest menace of all. Their suspicions were not aroused when several of his companions showed up in camp, all claiming to be prospectors, not were they curious about their frequent absence, while Bob remained always close to the boys. He made himself very useful and entertaining around camp, and helped them hunt stray cattle. He even suggested that he would hunt the strays by himself. One evening their cows didn’t come, neither did Bob. A hurried search showed their range had been wiped clean of cattle, except for a few strays that had escaped the rustlers. A thorough search, with help from neighboring cattlemen, revealed that they had all been victims of the famous Black Jack Outlaws, a gang of notorious desperadoes. They followed the trail and found that the cattle had been moved out of the country, by-passing ranches and the unguarded border, into Deming, New Mexico. There they found that Bob Lewis had made shipment of cattle to the East just two days before. They could do nothing about it, although the U.S. Government finally caught and hanged them all. But it didn’t bring back the cattle nor a penny for their sale.

Shortly after the turn of the century, Bert received a call to the Mexican Mission. This was surprising as well as frightening to him. He could handle the wildest broncos and meanest cows, and haul heavy loads with double teams over treacherous mountain roads, but what preparation was that for a mission. His education, too, had been limited. But his church work was less. He not only felt unprepared but unworthy to accept the call. But, schooled to be obedient, he said he would do the best he could.

He was set apart by Elder George Teasdale in June 1905 and entered the Mexican Mission shortly before President Talma Pomeroy was released. With this, he began work that was to be a vital part of his life for more than 50 years. He did his tracting on foot and carried his bedding and books on his back. Whereas before, he had been used to riding and using a pack mule. This was the first hard lesson that turned a cowboy into a preacher. He struggled to learn the Gospel both in Spanish and English. He became Rey L. Pratt’s first companion and made phenomenal growth in the work. He finished his 26 months in the mission field as an accomplished missionary, well informed in the Gospel, and so much in love with the Book of Mormon and the truths contained in it that it never ceased to be his favorite source of study.

On June 29, 1908, he married Lillie O’Donnal and later was sealed in the Salt Lake Temple. With her, a long, happy life was begun. A local mission, to which he was called by President Anthony Ivins shortly after his return, was interrupted by the Exodus. After this event, he was homeless and struggled to maintain his family in a New Mexico logging camp. Then he was called to serve under President Rey L. Pratt, who operated the Mexican Mission in the United States, as the Spanish American Mission. It was a sacrifice, both to himself and his father, to leave their contract at the time. They expected it to be of but six month’s duration. He accepted, and stayed in the field for two years.

Back in Colonia Juarez by 1914, he was called to serve in the Chihuahua Mission when it was organized under the direction of President Joseph C. Bentley. In 1917, in company with President Bentley, he visited the district of El Valle, Temosachic, Namiquipa, Matachic and other places to find Saints who had remained unvisited during the Revolution. This turned out to be the most fateful experience of all. With their wagon loaded with provisions for missionaries in the districts, they had hardly passed El Valle when they were captured by Pancho Villa’s troops, taken to Cruces, Chihuahua, and confined.

Villa was still smug over outsmarting the American soldiers in their attempt to capture him. He was still antagonistic toward Americans and had proved a thorn in the side of the Mexican Government, then in its first struggles to establish a stable government. What he would do with these missionaries was a question. The missionaries partially solved this problem by making friends with the guards and Felipe Angeles, Villa’s military strategist. He was a ready conversationalist, and as soon as he learned of their peaceful mission, confided to them that he was working with the American Government to use his influence with Villa to effect peace with his own government in Mexico. He admitted he was in a precarious situation. Should his identity and mission be discovered by the Carranza forces, he would never get out of the country alive. Then he sympathetically listened to the missionaries while they explained their way of life, the plan of salvation and the principles of the Gospel. The farther they went in their explanations, the more excited he became. Finally he shouted through the door, “Pancho, come here!” When he stood beside him, he exclaimed. “I want you to hear what these men say. They are doing with words what we are trying to do with guns.” Villa nodded and sat down to listen, continuing to nod in between the questions he asked. His final question started them both. “Why have you never told me this before? I have lived around Mormons all my life, and with a Mormon family for awhile in Sonora. But never before have I heard your doctrine explained, or learned the real meaning of your way of life. It might have made a difference in my life.”

At that, Angeles became more excited and solemnly exclaimed, “If I ever get out of this mess alive, I’m going to join the Mormons.” Villa, looking a little anxious, asked,” I might do the same thing. But do you have any place for a man like me?” “Yes,” answered Bert. “There is a chance for anyone doing wrong if he quits and tries to do better. I don’t know anything about you, but I do know that all the Lord wants is a repentant heart.” At which Villa replied, “No doubt you have heard much about me, most of which is untrue. I’ve been bad enough, all right, but not as bad as I’ve been represented to be. Every killing, hold up, or bank robbery has been blamed on Pancho Villa, and of most of them I knew absolutely nothing. But if I ever get to where I can make proper arrangements, I may do just as Angeles has said he’d do.”

Soon after their release, they heard of Felipe Angeles’ capture and subsequent execution. President Bentley and Bert decided if they could get property data, they would have his work done in the temple, for they were both convinced he was converted. Because of the lack of essentials for such work, it was postponed. One day after President Bentley returned from a General Conference in Salt Lake City he announced he had done Angeles’ work in the Salt Lake Temple. The First Presidency had told him to go ahead even if they lacked the essential data. President Bentley died shortly after that and Bert let the matter drop. But as time passed and he was able to spend time in the temple, he became curious to see what had been recorded of the work done for Felipe Angeles. To his surprise he could find no record or anyone who knew of it. Not even after writing Ernest Young, was Bishop of Colonia Juarez when the affair with Villa had taken place, could he obtain confirmation. Together with Antoine R. Ivins and the Temple Recorder, they searched for the record without success. But the unanimous decision of the searchers was that it should be done and Bishop Young commissioned to authorize Bert to do it.

But where would he start? He had a picture of the man which contained his place and date of birth, but where to go to get what else was needed? Then, as if out of the blue, it came. Bert’s son Rey, on business in Chihuahua City was during with a friendly lawyer. In the course of the conversation Felipe Angeles’ name was mentioned. The lawyer at once said he had a book that told much about it and that he could take it if it would help. The book, when procured, contained the record of his trial, Angeles’ speech of introduction wherein he told who he was, when and where he was born, and the names of his parents and much of his early life, all the information necessary to do his temple work. Bert copied all of this onto a genealogical family sheet and sent it to Ernest Young. He took it at once to the First Presidency, who after considering it, sent word to have the work done. Bert was authorized to do it, which he prepared to do at once. But in his search for data on Felipe Angeles, the question of doing the work for Pancho Villa had never entered his mind.

One night he had a dream, so real that when it was over he found himself sitting up in bed. In his dream, Pancho Villa stood at the foot of his bed, dressed in the same suit he had on while they were his prisoners. Villa asked if he knew him. Did he remember the last time he had seen him? When Bert answered “yes” to both questions, he continued. “Do you remember the things I said at that time?” “Yes,” said Bert. “I remember distinctly.” “That’s why I’ve come to see you about now. You taught me something I’ve always remembered. Do you remember what I told you?” “Yes,” said Bert. “You said that if the Mormon doctrine had been explained to you in your early youth, that your life might have been entirely different.” He then said, “I still feel that way, and I’ve come to see if you can help me.” “If there is anything in the world I can do for you, I’ll be glad to do it,” answered Bert. Pancho Villa then told Bert of his trouble, of his inability to go farther without help, and that Bert was the only one that could help him. “Why don’t you go to President Bentley, who is over there and tell him the same story?” “He’s here, all right,” answered Villa, “and I’ve seen him. But he can do nothing for me, and I’ve come to ask will you do it?” Bert repeated his willingness to do anything he could for him. “Can I count on that?” he asked. “Yes,” answered Bert, “you can count on that.” With that he woke up.

Sitting straight up in bed, he awakened his wife who asked in concern, “What’s the matter?” “I’ve been talking to Pancho Villa,” Bert answered. “Oh, you’ve just dreamed it,” she laughed, soothingly. “No, he was standing there at the foot of the bed. Didn’t you see him?” “Of course I didn’t,” she laughed again. “You’ve just eaten too much supper.”

The dream had so shaken Bert he didn’t sleep much the rest of the night. Nor could he get it off his mind the rest of the day. He kept asking himself why he had not been on the search for Pancho Villa’s genealogy while he was hunting so diligently for that of Angeles. Though Villa had not been as vehement in his avowal to join the Church as Angeles, both he and President Bentley felt sure that if conditions were right that he would eventually join. He now decided to do what he should have done earlier. Miraculously, again, he found a friend with a book containing all they needed. In this book he not only found all the information necessary, but also learned that Pancho Villa was christened Doroteo Arango. He copied it onto a sheet, took it to Villa’s widow in Chihuahua City to verify its accuracy, and then explained what he hoped to do with it. To his surprise she not only agreed, but asked what he could do for her. “I’ll send you the missionaries,” he answered, “and you can do for yourself.” This she promised to do.

Bert made a duplicate copy of his sheet and sent it to Earnest Young, who took it to the First Presidency, who in turn said Villa’s work should be done also. Joseph Fielding smith commissioned Bert to do it. In the spring of 1966, with joy in his heart, Bert compiled, thankful to be a Savior on Mount Zion for a man who, bloody through his reputation was, had never harmed a Mormon. Temple officials rejoiced too, when the letter came sanctioning that his work be done. They opened wide the temple doors for those doing it, glad that work was being done for more Lamanites.

This inspiring missionary experience came in Bert’s 85^th year. And in what better way could his long service to the Lamanite people end? Bert continued doing his own roping, branding, and caring for cattle until his 85^th year. He still makes almost daily trips to his ranch, a few miles distant from Colonia Juarez, where he now resides with his wife Lillie.

Compiled from his journal and tape recording by Erma Cluff Whetten in 1967

Stalwarts South of the Border, Nelle Spilsbury Hatch, page 739

Hyrum Albert Cluff

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Hyrum Albert Cluff

(1866 – 1913)

I was born in Provo City, Utah, October 26, 1866, and was baptized when I was eight years old by David Jones. I was confirmed by Henry Rogers.

My father, Moses Cluff, moved to Arizona in 1877 in Apache County, to Show Low. We cleared off the pine timber and fenced our farm, built large houses and ground are corn in hammer mills. For nearly 2 years, I herded cattle for Mr. Cooley with the Apache Indians, during the summers. In the year 1878, we moved to Forest Dale.

In 1879 my father went to Provo, Utah. My mother, Jane Margia Johnson Cluff, and the family moved to Arizona. My oldest sister got married that winter to James Clark Owens. Then my mother moved to Woodruff on the Little Colorado, and my father moved to the Gila River in Arizona, Graham County.

I worked on the Woodruff dam and bought me a span of horses, then worked on the railroad and bought mother of rock house in the Woodruff Fort.

In 1881 the Woodruff dam went out and I helped put it in again. In September 1882, I worked for J. C. Owens putting up hay and in October 1882, mother and I moved to the Gila in Graham County, Arizona, where my father was. There was quite a settlement and lots of mesquite brush all over the town and you could hardly see from house to house…

Mother and I went back to Woodruff on a visit. Mother stayed there and I came back and helped father on the farm. Mother took sick, and sent for me. I started for Woodruff in January, 1885 and came back in March, the same year, with William Rollans. We were nearly killed by Apache Indians. We camped on Turkey Creek, 10 miles from an Apache camp and the Indians danced and sang all night. We traveled down the Black River, which was running very high and we nearly drowned. The next day, the tongue of the wagon broke and when we stopped to fix it, an Indian road up and told us to follow him and to hurry. He seemed very uneasy. He led and we followed as we thought the other Indians were after us. The next day a party of white men passed on the road and told us that two of their group had been killed the day before and to keep our eyes open for Apaches…

In May, 1885, I met and started going with Rhoda Haws and hired to William Hunly to drive a team. In March 1886, I heard George M. Haws and worked and bought me a farm. I planted some corn and made adobes through the summer. My mother came from Woodruff that summer with brother Combs and Rhoda and I went to meet them. On September 5, George M. Haws ordained me an Elder in the Church and later that day, Rhoda and I were married. On September 6, 1886, the day after our wedding, Rhoda and I started for St. George…

The first night out, we camp at Thomas, Arizona. When we got to Black River, it was up quite high I crawled across in a big rope and got the boat on the other side. When we sent across the wagons, the women had to stand on the spring seats to keep them from getting wet. Brother Matice’s wagon tipped over, but we got it out of the river in one piece. We camped in Seven Mile Canyon and that night we had a dance on the ground around the campfire. From Seven Mile Canyon, we traveled to Woodruff. We stayed there for two days and had a good visit with my sister and her husband, J.C. Owens. We went on to Saint Joseph on the Little Colorado. We stayed at Brother Porter’s and had a dance. Then Rhoda, James Cluff and his wife went on and left the rest of us. They traveled to Black Falls where we caught up with them and traveled together to the Willow Springs.

When we got to the Colorado, it was up and Brother Johnson was herding a big herd of cattle over for Brother John Wiley. We had to take wagons all part and ferry them over in pieces but we got across all right. We arrived in Kanab and had a dance. We stayed there for three days and found one of our cousins there and then went to Long Valley where we stayed two weeks with Brother Warner Porter. They had lots of fruit which was quite a treat. We also saw G[eorge] M. Haws, Rhoda’s brother and his wife. We went on to St. George and went through the temple on October 26, 1886, and saw and heard many great things which we will never forget. There we were sealed for time and all eternity by Brother McCallister. We then went to Washington, six miles from St. George. We stayed there all night and then started for Provo. It was a nice trip, but cold. We arrived in Provo on November 10^th. We stopped at James Meldrum’s, Rhoda’s sister’s husband. We stayed with them all winter I hauled wood out of the mountain and frosted my feet that winter…

In May, 1890, I took my wife, her mother and two sisters and started from Mexico. We had a very dry trip. We got to the Animas Valley, horses got alkalied and the water made all the sick. We arrived in Colonia Diaz Sunday morning on June 6^th. We got the Colonia Juarez on Friday the 11^th and to Colonia Pacheco Sunday the 13^th. We found Brother Haws and his family all well. Brother Haws went to Round Valley and I thought that it was the prettiest place I had ever seen.

We stayed at Pacheco and spend the Fourth of July there. Started back to Central and arrived there on 23^rd of July. It was an awful muddy trip. The 24^th of July we celebrated with the community.

I freighted from August to March of next year between Wilcox and Globe City, Arizona. On August 19, 1890, I started from Mexico. When I arrived at the Custom House at Senicone (Asencion), I had to give the $50 bond before they would let me pass. Bring your troubles went with me to look over the country around Colonia Garcia. Peter McBride, John Hill, George Haws and me went Round Valley to look for land for a farm but gave it up. I settled in Corrales, build the house and fenced me a lot.

The following spring was very dry and we had to live on cornbread. Brother James Sellers and I built a dam the creek and got irrigation water to our land. On October 20, 1892, I went to Colonia Juarez to make brick for George Haws. I went to Colonia Diaz in November to get some cattle from Hendricks. Arrived in Corrales with the cattle December 6^th. On Christmas I was the clown and George Hardy was Santa Claus. While he was taking the presents off the tree, the cotton on his suit caught fire from the candles and he was burned quite badly. It was an awful experience…

In September, 1893, I was out hunting my horses and ran across a bear. I took out my lasso and caught him by the neck and pulled him out of a tree. The commotion frightened my horse and he threw me off. Somehow, I managed to hang on to the rope. The bear must have been as scared as I was because instead of attacking me, he tried to climb back up the tree. When he got up to fork in the tree, I let the rope go slack. The bear, caught off balance, fell headfirst through the fork in the tree and yanked the rope tight, he hanged himself as he was unable to touch the ground.

On the first of October we were counseled to move back into town because some Indians were acting up. We moved closer to Corrales and lived in a log house. The next February, we moved out to the ranch….

I also helped cut the road from Pacheco to Round Valley. Moved to Round Valley December 8, 1894 and cut logs and put a log house up. We moved into our new house on January 14, 1895 and had a dance. I plastered the house in April and helped survey the graveyard in Garcia.

Saturday, June 9^th, Rhoda was not feeling well, so I didn’t go to meeting. Sister Phoebe J. Allred anointed Rhoda and confirmed the anointing. On June 10, 1895, at 1:00 a.m., Fernie Jane Cluff was born. Annie D. Farnsworth came in and helped us with household chores.

On July 24, 1895, we had a celebration here. People came from Pacheco, Cave and Juarez. We played ball, had a picnic and in the evening, we put on a very good program. I took the part of the nigger…

In November, I wanted cattle drive to Juarez. We camped out one night in Corrales. That night the cattle stampeded. When we got to the corral we found that they had mashed the log corral fence down and some of them were under the big logs. We stayed up all night to put the corral backup and at daybreak went out to look for the cattle that had stampeded. Rhoda met me at Pacheco and went on to In November, I went on a cattle drive to Juarez with me. The last of the month, I dug potatoes and went out hunting. I got four big gobblers. Rhoda put her carpet down the 29th…

On August 22, 1896, we went to Juarez to conference. We heard some very good instruction, but Fernie, the baby, took sick and we had to come home. She kept getting worse. She passed away on September 12, 1896 at 6:00 a.m. The funeral services were held at my house at 10:00 a.m. and called to order by Elder J[ohn] T. Whetten. We sang “Come Let Us Anew Our Journey.” The prayer was by Frank Shafer and we sang “Weep Not for Her That’s Dead And Gone.” A.L. Farnsworth spoke for some time and gave some very good remarks. Then Brother J. T. Whetten spoke a short time, and read some nice verses composed by Mary Farnsworth. They we sang “Farewell All Earthly Honors.” We then went to the graveyard and paid the last respects. The dedicatory prayer was by Brother Farnsworth…

In July 1898, we moved to the sawmill where Rhoda cooked for the mill hands and I worked with the logging. I took her from there with me up to work on the wagon road at Soldier Canyon. I was the road overseer. From there, we went home in November.

The spring of 1899 was very cold. I was called by the Bishop to take a man from New York up to inspect the timber of the nearby country. He was with a railroad company who was anticipating building a railroad near here…

July 24,1900, we held a celebration representing the Pioneers reaching Utah. We had Indians camped on the square. We put up a liberty pole and I was the first one to climb it.

On August 3^rd, we were visited by Joseph F. Smith, Second Counselor to the President of the Church. He brought with him, Brother Seymour B. Young, the First President of the Seventies.

On September 12, 1900 Benjamin Cluff, President of the Brigham Young Academy, visited us. He was traveling with a party from the Academy, on their way to South America. They stayed in Garcia one week and excavated some ruins and got some specimens. I traveled 75 miles south with the expedition as guide. On returning home, I met a couple of outlaws. They drew their guns on me and held me a prisoner for several hours. They finally decided to let me go and I gratefully returned home in one piece.

I cut the oats for the people here in Garcia with a self-binder. Went out hunting and trapping. Got two big lions and two wolves. When I returned home, Apostle A[braham} O. Woodruff and President Ivins were there at Garcia. They held meetings and then went on to Chuhuichupa where they organized a ward. G{eorge] M. Haws, Rhoda’s brother, was appointed Bishop. After the conference held at Juarez, Thomas Allen and Brother Harris followed some Indians who had been stealing corn and potatoes. They ran onto their camp and killed two of them. Brother Ivins and Woodruff helped bury the Indians. Bishop Whetten sent a runner out to Chuhuichupa to warn the people and another to Juarez to take the report to get ammunition for the protection of the ward…

February 23^rd, Rhody and Josephine Haws, my sister, started to Gila Valley for a visit. I am getting along fine. There is now plenty of water thanks to the dam we put in. The ground is in fine condition for plowing and every one is preparing to put in big crops this year.

March 9^th, got a letter from my wife, Rhoda. She and the children arrived in Pima alright. I went to Juarez after Dr. Shipp who came to operate on Sister Ida Whetten. She took a baby from her. I rode all night and it snowed and rained on me most of the way. I caught cold in my eyes and I have been housed up doctoring them and it seems so lonesome here alone without Rhody and the children. This is the first time that Rhoda and I have been away from each other for any length of time since we were married.

June 3^rd, the country is on fire and the valley is full of smoke.

Brother Taylor of Juarez sent for me to come down and trap some bear in his pastures. They are killing off his cattle. July 2^nd, trapped one week and caught three bears and while I was there, Rhoda and the children arrived from Pima. I was glad to see them again. The baby looked quite bad.

August 23^rd, got a letter from a Dr. Hughs of Philadelphia. He wanted me to go out with him as a guide on a hunting and trapping trip. He came with a party of friends and we killed several lions, grey wolves, foxes, turkey, and deer. I took them down to Casas Grandes station and they returned from there back to Philadelphia apparently well satisfied with their trip to the wilds of Mexico.

While I was out with Dr. Hughs, I took him to the old ruins 15 miles on the west side of Garcia Valley. We excavated some ruins and found one skeleton. Many thoughts passed through my mind while working on these ruins and reflecting on the people who built those houses.

October 22^nd, me and Mr. Barker and Ernest Stiner started out trapping. We went south-east from Garcia on the Rio Almais. We were gone six weeks. We caught and killed five bears, eight lions, eleven turkeys, and several deer. The last bear we killed pretty near got Ernest and myself. It was a large silver tip bear and he came within ten feet of us with his mouth open and had it not been for the dogs, he would have gotten both of us…

September 10^th, I went to Juarez and took my family and then went on to El Paso. I took Matilda and Lorena and Sister Haws with me to El Paso. We returned home from there and I brought a hunting party in. When we were between Casas Grandes and Juarez, I got on a mule and it jumped in a hole and fell. I got my foot caught in the stirrup and the mule dragged and kicked me until finally the stirrup broke and I got loose. I was badly banged up and the backs of my legs and my back were black and blue. I didn’t have any broken bones though and was able to take the hunting party to the Blue Mountains.

November 22^nd, I took another hunting party from Kansas on a trip. We sow one lion but didn’t get anything. I also showed them some ancient buildings.

December 25^th, the band serenaded the town. It was a very enjoyable holiday.

February 8^th, was permitted to accept the high laws of God which was a very great trial to Rhoda. The Lord has blessed us a great deal and I’m sure everything will work out. I married Delia Floretta Humphrey here in Garcia, Mexico. The year is 1903.

April 1^st, I took a gentleman by the name of R. C. Cross of New York out on a hunt. We visited the ruins at Cave Valley. I took the folks out to Peacock after my traps and camped. Rhody and I went into a very deep canyon and ate dinner. I took her picture twice. That day as we came over some very rough places, Rhody very nearly fell off her horse. She went with me to hunt bear that had been gone with my trap for six days. We were in some rough country but we found the bear dead and then found the trap on our way back to camp. I killed three deer and took the picture of Rhoda’s horse and deer.

October 2^nd, Floretta went to Juarez to put up fruit for us. I got a letter from her.

January 1, 1904, the weather is very cold and windy. The people seem to be getting careless and there is neglectful spirit among them. I received word that my brother, James Cluff, was cut off from the church for adultery. We put a drop curtain in our meeting house. It cost $36…

March 7, 1904, this morning at 11:00 a.m. our first son was born to Rhoda and I. He is our 9^th child. He weighed nine and a half pounds. We are so proud of him and all the neighbors has been in to see him and congratulate us. We have named him Hyrum Albert Cluff.

April 3^rd, we took our boy to the meeting house and had him blessed. The measles are raging here. There are 44 cases here in the Garcia Ward. So far there have been no deaths.

April 15^th, 1904, the measles are still raging. Rhoda is sick with them and five of the children are down with them. We were called upon to give up our dear baby boy. He only stayed with us one month and four days. It is so hard to part with him because he is the only boy we have ever had. I had to leave Rhoda and take him up to the cemetery. She was sick and in bed with the other four children. I am so sorry she could not at least see our sweet baby buried. There were only two wagons, but there was quite a large crowd. Elder Clark of Dublan offered the dedicatory prayer. The ward choir sang “Your Sweet Little Rose.” Bishop Whetten offered prayer and we returned home.

April 16^th, the children and Rhoda were awful sick again last night. It is a very gloomy time for all of us but we feel to say in our hears that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.

Sunday, April 24^th, the family and I went to Bishop Whetten’s for dinner. Most of the people are getting over the measles.

August 25^th, there was a large flood that came down the creek here and washed out some fences. Also the river at Hop Valley was up and washed out lots of the logs and ties which we cut for the railroad. I was rolling logs and wading in the river until 12:00 last night. Sister Haws and her daughter came here from the Gila Valley to visit. Rhoda was glad to see her mother and sister. Her mother is getting quite gray. They visited in Chupa [Chuhuichupa] and then came back here.

October 12^th, I took all of my folks and went to Cave Valley with Rhoda’s mother and sister and some of their brothers from Pacheco. We had a good time and then they went back to the Gila Valley.

Sunday, October 23^rd, we had a good meeting. Spoke on the order of the marriage covenant. I am still shocking my corn.

October 26^th, this is my birthday Rhoda gave me a nice liver righ for a present. My aunt’s father’s fist wife was here on her way to Chup. She came on a visit from the Gila Valley.

October 31^st, Bishop Whetten’s wife is very ill. It seems that her life hangs on a thread. I just got a letter telling me that my brother John’s wife passed away. She and the baby were buried together.

November 31^st, Bishop Whetten’s second wife, Emma died today. She was sick and almost a solid sore from head to foot, but it healed up before she died.

December 25^th, Christmas. Rhoda and I and two of the children went to Juarez and bought flour and apples and toys for Christmas. We had a community program and played all kinds of games. At night we had a dress party. Rhody and I represented George Washington and his wife Martha. Floretta represented the flower girl and Tillie represented Little Bo-Peep. Rhody and I won the prize.

January 2, 1905, just settled my tithing for the year, 1904. The amount was $100.25. My brother Brigham Cluff is here from Pima, Arizona, also George Haws, Jr. The Relief Society got up a big party to get money for the purpose of getting burial clothes for people. It is a hard matter to get clothing on such occasions as we are 50 miles from any railroad and 35 miles to where they can buy much from the stores. The stores here are small and don’t keep much supplies.

February 14^th, I took a load of lumber to Juarez. I saw Apostle Teasdale and he blessed me. I have started up a trade and am trying to handle produce for the people.

March 20^th, there has been some talk and discussion on the God Head and I was called to make a special visit to all the people who had advocated that doctrine that Adam is God and the Father of Christ. We were told to tell them that this doctrine is definitely false. Today in meeting all were given one week probation and if they didn’t repent they would be dropped from their positons in the ward…

September 14^th, went to Colonia Juarez to conference at the Stake Academy. As President [Joseph F.} Smith and party entered the building the congregation stood and sang, “We Thank Thee O God for a Prophet.” President Jarvis opened the conference and spoke of the growth of the people and stated that this was one of the greatest days that the people had enjoyed in this land by the presence of President Smith. He mentioned that it also was the national day of Mexico. I attended 11 meetings at the conference and all our children shook and with President Smith at Sunday School. Two thousand two hundred seventy-two souls attended the conference. President Smith told me to go and be baptized for my dead father.

Floretta came up to stay with us for awhile. On September 4, 1905 she gave birth to a boy at a quarter to seven o’clock in the morning. We named him Charles G. Cluff. It is her first child.

December 2^nd, there has been lots of rain and the river has been up quite high. The river washed lots of fence away at Corrales and took 4 houses out of Colonia Juarez, 8 in Colonia Diaz, 33 in Sonora and left the people without anything only the clothes they were wearing at the time. Their household goods all were lost in the flood but through the blessings of the Lord, there was not one life lost. The people of the Stake has made up a fund for the homeless.

My tithing for the year 1905 was $74.50.

March 3rd, we have got the telephone poles up through our town and it will only be a matter of time when the telephone will be in all of the homes of the ward in this stake. It will be a blessing to all of us.

April 2^nd, had been out on the mountain hauling logs for H.H. James’ sawmill. Art Farnsworth came over to tell me that the baby, Alberta, was sick. I went home and arrived there at 4:00 in the morning. I found her quite sick. Friday night at 9:00, she passed away. She was a sweet little girl and she brought sunshine into our home with little time she was with us. The people here have been very kind to us and in all they can for our dear little pet. She was such a sweet baby. There seems to be so much sickness in the ward now.

September 24^th, Rhoda and I are preparing to start for Salt Lake City this morning to do temple work.

February 26^th, the Garcia sawmill blew up, killing George Turley and injuring Art Farnsworth and Sumner O’Donnal quite bad. The money panic which was raging in Utah and Arizona has struck us here and times sure are hard.

May 15, 1908, our 12th child and third son was born to Rhoda. We named him William Templeton Cluff.

June 5, 1908, Apostle Anthony W. Ivins and our stake presidency called a special meeting here in Garcia. There had been some differences and trouble in the order, but after the brethren were called together and matters were properly adjusted, there was a general hand-shaking all around and a good spirit prevailed. I was called his second counselor to Bishop J[ohn] T. Whetten of Garcia Ward and was set apart in ordained a High Priest…

June 19, 1909, Floretta had a baby girl. We named her Violet.

July 5, 1909, I planted corn on my lots. Times are very hard and the Bishop is letting the people have the tithing corn to eat…

February 2, 1910, a comet appeared in the western skies. June 16, almost all men Garcia are up in the mountains working on the railroad. I came home to check on things and found the farm is looking good. Those are staying here have planted all the farmland in the Valley in grain, mostly oats. There are quite a lot of apples, peaches, plums, charities and a number of kinds of small fruit being raised here this year.

June 22, 1910, Rhoda had another boy which makes 13 children. We named him Harold Alton Cluff. Rhoda and the baby are getting along fine.

October, the rebels here took it up against the government. It has caused great excitement among the people, but they seem to be peaceable towards the Latter-day Saints. The Church President, Joseph F. Smith, sent Apostle Ivins to assist the people here and he was the means of getting guns and ammunition in for the Mormons.

January 19, 1911, it is very cold. Forty rebels came into Garcia and bought supplies in the store and paid for them. They appeared very friendly.

January 24, the outlaws killed Sister Mortenson of Guadalupe and also her brother. The officers caught three of them and one got away. One of the rebels came and stayed all night here in town and said he was on his way to United States the purchase ammunition for the rebels. They have to of a great many of the Mexican soldiers and taken a great many smaller places, but not been able to hold them.

October, when hunting with a party from New York. Madero was the victor of the Revolution and was elected President of Mexico.

December 11^th, the railroad is nearly completed above San Diego Canyon. It will be a great benefit to the mountain colonies. The Revolution abated only for a short time. Some of Madero’s generals became jealous of Madero and started another Revolution. Every now and again there is a band of rebels that will ride into town and demand something like food or livestock or ammunition. One bunch numbered 250.

January 1912, the Church sent guns and ammunition to the colonies. The rebels are taking a lot of the colonists’ horses and saddles and are killing off cattle for meat. So far they have not stolen from Garcia…

The people here are getting quite alarmed about the rebel situation. They have attacked quite a few of the Mormons, beating them up with their guns and stolen their horses. Some people have been stopped by rebels on their way to church. They had to sit there in the wagons and watch them unhitch their horses and ride off with them. The rebel generals have gone back on their word to leave the colonies alone. Our men number about 300 and there are about 1,500 rebels in and around this. We are expecting to be called to leave for Pacheco any day now.

July 24^th, we held a dance and had quite a good time.

July 28^th, we received word to leave our homes. We spent the 29^th packing what few things we could take and cooking. We just walked out and close the door and left everything. There were 27 wagons. The men stayed to defend the town and our property but the women and children camped in a lumber shed with very little room. The babies cried all night making sleep impossible for the rest. On August 2^nd, Rhoda and the children left for Pima, and arrived the next day.

We men all gathered in Juarez where we decided to hide out in the mountains. I went back to Garcia herd our horses up into the mountains. When I got the horses up to the men, we decided to take them to the border. From El Paso, I went on to be sure Rhoda and the children were all right. On September 20^th, some of us went back for as many cattle as we can drive out. October 13^th,I arrived in Pima. We put Tillie and Lorena in school in Pima and November 4^th, we started for Bluewater, New Mexico. We arrived there the 5th at 1:00 a.m.

November 11^th we moved into Nelly Chatman’s house. Tilly went to work at the general store, clerking.

Heber took sick on June 21^st and on July 17^th, he died.

September 24, 1913, Hyrum* became very sick and was bad from the very first. We couldn’t get a doctor and we just didn’t seem to be able to do anything to help him. He died October 16^th and was buried October 17^th. His funeral was held at the meeting house in Bluewater. We sang “Come Let Us Anew” after which Brother Tietjen gave the opening prayer. We sang “Oh, My Father” and Brothers Call Hakes, Charley Martineau, Bishop Whetten and Welcome Chapman spoke. We sang “Resurrection Day” and Brother Welcome Champman closed the meeting with prayer. Brother Tietjen dedicated the grave.

We are left alone without a home, no one we know to help us and in a strange new place.

From the journal of Hyrum Albert Cluff, submitted by Mrs. Sarah Matilda Cluff Lewis, daughter.

Stalwarts South of the Border page 113.

*For clarity, the last entry would have been written by someone other than Hyrum as he was the person passing in the entry.

Senora Fimbres Killed by Apaches

Lupa – Great Granddughter of Geronimo

Apache Indians Massacre Members of the Thompson Family

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In 1891 when Helaman Pratt moved his family back to the Colonies in the lower valley, he leased his ranch to Hans A. Thompson, a Scandinavian, who moved there with his wife, Karren, two sons, Hyrum, age 18 and Elmer age 14, and a granddaughter, Annie, age 6.

The ranch was about 10 miles from Pacheco in the Piedras Verde Rio area.

Mr. Thompson had only left the previous day for Pacheco where he was working on the thresher. The morning of September 19, 1892 promise to be a fine one at the Thompson ranch, as ominous clouds had not yet risen above the horizon. In the absence of the father, who was working on the thresher (of which he was part owner) at Pacheco, his two sons, Hyrum and Elmer, started early to the fields, carrying a bucket a feed for the pigs as they went. As little Annie skipped back to the house with empty pails, her screams of terror alert the boys to the presence of Indians on the ranch. As Hyrum turned to look, a bullet passed through his body but he did not fall. Thinking to protect his mother, Elmer ran toward the house for the Winchester gun, calling back to Hyrum that the pistol was on the saddle in the barn. Just then two more shots were fired, one killing Hyrum who fell behind the pigpen, the other entering Elmer’s body in the left chest and passing out below the shoulder about three-fourths of an inch from his spine.

Though still able to stand, Elmer fell into a week ticket thinking thus to avoid a second bullet. When Indian, coming from behind the haystacks to loot the barn of saddles and harness straps, failed to see Elmer, he crept into the chicken coop from where he watched the proceedings. When the Indians broke open the kitchen door where Mrs. Thompson and Annie had barricaded themselves, they ran into the yard in full view of Elmer.

Bathed in his own blood and almost paralyzed with horror of seeing in Indian shoot his mother through the body and left arm and then crush her head with a rock, Elmer might have fainted except for his concern over Annie. Her savage captor amused himself by her frantic efforts to escape and protect her grandmother. When flailing him with her sunbonnet and attempting to scratch his face was not enough amusement, he turned her loose, then tripped her as she ran past by throwing a harness strap over her head and holding it to both ends as she fell he struck her with his scabbard until she began to fight. This horseplay was halted by a call which took the tormentor into the house and Elmer had a chance to beckon Annie into the chicken coop with him. Lying by the door, armed with rocks, he determined to protect her as best he could.

The Indians looted the house of everything, even taking two suits of temple clothes. They entered the feather ticks, and 1000 pounds of flour in order to use the sacks to hold the loot. Like ants they hurried back and forth carrying the plunder to be strapped onto pack animals. They also took a new wagon cover, two saddles, and cut the harnesses for straps. They found considerable money hidden in one of the trunks. When Annie’s captor returned from the house he brought some cheese, which he threw to his companion, and began looking for the child. When she was not to be found and Elmer had also disappeared from where he had fallen, the Indians left hastily, driving 15 valuable ranch horses with them.

When the savages had gone, the children began the trip to the G. C. Williams’ ranch for help, but Elmer soon faded from loss of blood. The little girl ran to the stream and cupping her hands, carried water until he revived. She left him under a tree and ran alone with her dog. Soon she met a horseman, Sullivan C. Richardson, who heard the story, took her to the Williams’ ranch and hurried to Cave Valley to give the alarm.

The news had quickly spread. Kind friends from Cave Valley, four miles away, took care of the dead and administered to Elmer. A posse of men went in pursuit of the Indians, but was not able to catch up to them. Following the strategy every man carried a gun, even to church.

The following is told by Sullivan C. Richardson:

“I left her (Annie) at Williams’ ranch and hurried to Cave Valley to give the alarm. While brother Heaton got in touch with Hans Thompson at Pacheco, I and brothers Robert Vance, P.S. and John Williams, N.H.Perry and James Mortensen went with team and wagon and on horseback to the Pratt ranch. On the way we found Elmer under the shade of the pines where he had fallen during his attempt to reach Williams’ ranch. He was made as comfortable as possible on a coat in the wagon and afterwards, with the care of brother Mortenson and the blessings of the Lord, got well. We went on to the ranch and then to Cave Valley with Elmer and the bodies of his mother and brother. There Bob Vance and I hurried on to Dry Valley. Some may realize my joy and thankfulness, when, from the timbers across the valley, I saw Eliza come to the door of the cabin—all right and unaware of any trouble.”

That night coffins and burial clothes were made for the dead bodies. One sister who helped, wrote: “For years after, whenever I closed my eyes, I could see those awful scenes at Thompson’s ranch, and that woman’s bashed in head, and feel my fears when I thought the Indians were upon us and would take our children.”

The next day at sundown, the bodies of sister Thompson and her son, Hyrum, faithful members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, were interred side-by-side at Cave Valley.

Taken from the book Heartbeats of Colonia Diaz from the compilation Pacheco History and Stories by Sylvia Lunt Heywood.

Las Colonias – The Mormon Colonies in Mexico

Everything You Need to Know about Mormon Colonies in Mexico

Tag Archives: Apache Indians

Charles Whiting Sr.

Sarah Ann Lunt

James Elbert Whetten

Hyrum Albert Cluff

Senora Fimbres Killed by Apaches

Lupa – Great Granddughter of Geronimo

Apache Indians Massacre Members of the Thompson Family