Several weeks ago our bishop and his wife stopped by our home one night and asked if they could speak to us. Sitting together as a family, he asked if Chris and I would be willing to serve as a “Ma and Pa” on our stake’s upcoming youth trek. I was so excited but quickly realized that this probably would not be a possibility for us. The week after trek was the start of a huge annual conference at Chris’ company. Preparing for this conference is an enormous task and Chris is always swamped with projects and work for weeks leading up to this event. Because of the heavy work load, Chris’ company tries to encourage people not to ask for any time off in the week leading up to this event so I was genuinely surprised when Chris explained the situation to the bishop but told him he would talk to his supervisors. I didn’t have much faith that they would really give him the time off.
I should have had more faith.
Chris came home with permission to take that time off. We were going on trek. We were headed to Zion!
The weeks leading up to this experience were intense. Chris’ sister was married which meant being in involved with numerous wedding preparations and having lots of family in town…some of them staying at our home. After the wedding, I left to spend 3 days at Girl’s Camp and then we had one week to catch our breath before more family arrived and Chris and I had to prepare to leave on trek. I will admit I was overwhelmed and started to question the wisdom and timing of our decision to go. There were so many reasons why legitimately this didn’t seem like a sound decision. And yet we continued to move forward knowing that this was what the Lord wanted us to be doing and that he would bless our efforts. Chris worked as hard and fast as he could at work to accomplish all he could before he left and I tried to maintain a positive attitude as we cleaned the house, welcomed more company, and tried to work out the logistics of supplies, kid’s schedules, etc. Our first miracle occurred when Chris’ sister Courtney volunteered to watch our children for the 3 days we would be gone. Courtney was going to be visiting here in Utah and offered to stay at our home with her 4 children so they could watch our 3 children. What woman does that? A “single” (her husband had to fly back to home to work) mother volunteering to watch 7 children on her own?? She truly was an angel of mercy for us. It meant we didn’t have to worry about packing up our children and farming them out to different places. It not only saved a huge amount of time, but gave us great peace of mind. This is so typical of the women in Chris’ family who time and time again step in to serve and help. It is a gift of love and compassion that I feel blessed to have not only been a recipient of but been an amazed observer of. They astound me.
In preparation for attending trek, each participant (both youth and adults) were asked to choose an individual that they would be “trekking” for. This was a great experience as I contemplated the many people in my past who have acted as “pioneers” in the gospel and truly inspired and uplifted me with their acts of courage, sacrifice, and faithfulness. After speaking with my Dad though, I decided to trek on behalf of my great-great-great grandmother Eliza Briggs, a handcart pioneer who made the treacherous journey across the plains in the Willie Handcart Company. She was 19 years old when her family emigrated from England and began the harrowing journey across the plains to Zion. As I read her life story, I was touched not only by her many acts of selfless service, but also by her determination to be strictly obedient in all things to the Lord and his living prophet. She lost her father and 13-year old brother during the difficult journey and ultimately would lose her mother after reaching Salt Lake City. Eliza carried her 8-month old sister under her cape most of the way and this single act of love and service saved her young sister’s life. I was excited to literally walk the Mormon trail and see where so many thousands of faithful Saints sacrificed, consecrated their lives, suffered, and showed faith and trust in the Lord that continues to inspire and motivate generations today. Despite the stress in preparing for this adventure, I felt it an enormous privilege to have been asked to go.
DAY ONE: July 7, 2011
“Let all things be done in order, and let all the saints who can, gather up for Zion and come while the way is open before them. Let the poor also come, let them come on foot, with handcarts or wheelbarrows, let them gird up their loins and walk through, and nothing shall hinder or stay them.”
After weeks of meetings, planning, equipment gathering, check-in, etc., it was finally time to go! We arrived at the stake center at 6:30 a.m. for a short devotional and then it was time to load the buses and go. I can honestly say that I think that yellow school bus was not only the most fragrant, but the most uncomfortable bus I have ever ridden! But spirits were truly high and the mood joyful as we took off for the plains of Wyoming. While on the bus, the bishop announced our “families”…we found out which youth would be our Big Brother and Big Sister and “met” the other members that would be our family for 3 days. Our ward was considered one company with the Bishop and his wife as Captain and Co-captain. The youth in our ward were then split into 4 groups with adult leaders as the “Ma and Pa”, older youth leaders as the Big Brother and Big Sister, and 4-5 other youth as the rest of the family. We did a little switching around and as families; we spent time composing a new verse to a favorite pioneer “oldie” song and making up a cheer. The time went quickly and the enthusiasm of the youth was contagious.
As we started this adventure, our bishop spoke honestly about the experience we were about to have. He said that despite the meticulous and careful months of planning, there were elements that were out of our control that could surprise or frustrate us. He bore testimony that our Heavenly Father was aware of each of us individually and as a group and that whatever happened, it would be the trek He intended for us to have. I was grateful for those words and the comfort they would bring me again and again over the next 3 days.
We finally arrived at our destination and after a quick stop to use the Port-a-potties, we loaded our handcarts and prepared to trek. Each individual was allowed to bring a sleeping bag/pillow that was carried to our campsites by an equipment truck and then a 5 gallon food storage bucket that was carried on the handcart. We also wore black satchel type bags at all times as we walked. While this may not seem like much, when you multiply it by 400+ leaders and youth, you have quite a bit of “stuff” to deal with. Most of the trek trail, with the exception of the last mile or two, was part of the actual Mormon trail. Before we officially left, we were told to keep our eyes open for wagon wheel ruts, camp stains, and many grave sites that would be visible along the trail. We were trekking on private land that the landowners had only opened up to youth groups last year. Many of the graves and other artifacts are still in the process of being marked and discovered. As I looked out across those wild, beautiful plains, I couldn’t help but feel I was truly on sacred, holy ground.
“It is our constant desire not to mislead the saints concerning the difficulties of the journey to Utah. We wish them calmly to make up their minds that it is not an easy task, and to start with faith, trusting in Israel’s God of success, and seek of him constantly, by prayer and supplication.” (President Richards speaking to early Saints preparing for their journey to Zion.)
After trekking only a short distance, we stopped to see 2 unmarked burial sites. There was a feeling of great reverence for these burial sites and what they represented in terms of human life and sacrifice. A little ways further, we were able to see Brigham’s arrow, an arrow-shaped marker created from stones, originally placed by Brigham Young’s and Heber C. Kimball’s vanguard company to direct companies to take a certain path to Salt Lake City. Ironically, the trail to which the arrow points was only used by the first companies. All subsequent companies took the other route, which is the trail our trek followed.
The trail we followed was rough. The young men in our family did the majority of the pulling and pushing while the girls walked ahead or behind. The actual walking provided an opportunity to have some amazing, open conversations with the youth and I loved that time just to walk beside them and listen to what they had to say. Sometimes it was stories of things they were struggling with or concerned about, sometimes it was humorous stories filled with playful teasing and lots of laughs, sometimes it was the girls’ begging for the leaders to share stories of their first kiss or how they met their husbands. I loved those moments of connecting and bonding. I do not lie when I say we have some of the most remarkable youth I have ever met in our ward. They are astounding in so many ways and I often feel humbled listening to their stories and testimonies. Spending time with them in this way was a great blessing and privilege.
"Many a father pulled his cart, with his little children on it, until the day preceding his death" (LeRoy R. Hafen and Ann W. Hafen, Handcarts to Zion: The Story of a Unique Western Migration 1856–1860, [1960], 102).
"This heroic episode of Mormon history exemplifies many of the enduring qualities of nascent Mormonism itself: thorough organization, iron discipline, unswerving devotion to a cause, and limitless self-sacrifice. . . . The true Mormon Trail was not on the prairie but in the spirit" (Arthur King Peters, Seven Trails West [1996], 145).
We stopped for lunch after a time and sat on our buckets as a “family”. It had been hours since we had eaten breakfast and all of us were hungry. Each member of our family was handed a plastic cup containing a small handful of flour. This was lunch. And for a few moments we discussed some of the realities that these Saints faced on this trail.
“Last evening a council & a meeting were held to take into consideration our provisions & the time it was considered we should have to make it last before we could depend upon supplies. It was unanimously agreed to reduce the rations of flour one fourth - the men then would get 10 1/2 ozs. per day; women, & large children 9 ozs. per day; children 6 ozs. per day; & infants 3 ozs. per day each.” (Willie Handcart, Company Journal)
“About this time Captain Willie received a letter from apostle Richards informing him that we might expect supplies to meet us from the valley by the time we reached South Pass. An examination of our stock of flour showed us that it would be gone before we reached that point. Our only alternative was to still further reduce our bill of fare. The issue of flour was then to average ten ounces per day to each person over ten years of age, and to be divided thus: working-men to receive twelve ounces, women and old men nine ounces, and children from four to eight ounces, according to age and size.
“This arrangement dissatisfied some, especially men with families; for so far they had really done better than single men, the children’s rations being some help to them. But, taken altogether, it was as good a plan as we could have adopted under the circumstances.
“Many of our men showed signs of failing, and to reduce their rations below twelve ounces would have been suicidal to the company, seeing they had to stand guard at night, wade the streams repeatedly by day to get the women and children across, erect tents, and do many duties which women could not do.
“Our captain did his utmost to move us forward and always acted with great impartiality. The sub-captains had plenty of work, too, in seeing that rations were fairly divided, equally distributing the strength of their hundreds, helping the sick and the weakly, etc.”
From: John Chislett, “Mr. Chislett’s Narrative,” in The Rocky Mountain Saints, T. B. H. Stenhouse (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1873), 320.
After spending several minutes trying to figure out how to make this small amount of flour fill our stomachs, we were presented with lunch. I can’t tell you in that moment how grateful I was for that food. I was struck several times on this trek with the reality that what these pioneers did, the sheer physical realities of what they overcame, did not add up. There is no way that these individuals should have been able to do what they did. How does a company of people expected to push and pull handcarts for 12-15 miles a day, survive a meager cup of flour? So many miracles were brought to my mind again and again as we were given opportunities to briefly glimpse some of the experiences these pioneers faced. The Lord asked them to give all they had, to sacrifice, to perservere, to show courage and determination in the face of overwhelming odds, and to do all they could possibly do. And when they had done all they could do, He performed miracles. Somehow a small cup of flour enabled a band of individuals to survive the harshest of circumstances and make it over a thousand miles to Zion. He blessed them physically as well as spiritually. This did not mean that there were those who would not lose their lives from exposure and starvation…it meant that those sacrifices would be consecrated for the good of the whole, that testimonies would be tried and strengthened, that the Lord would have a people with the physical, emotional and spiritual strength to tame a desert and build a Zion. My testimony was strengthened that the Lord not only blesses us spiritually, but he stands ready to strengthen us emotionally, physically, temporally…whatever we stand in need of. When we do all we have been asked to do, He will bless us. And miracles do happen…every single day.
That afternoon, we reached the first of several “physical” challenges…Gravel Hill.
“The descent from this hill is the steepest and most difficult that we have ever met with, being long and almost perpendicular.” (William Clayton, July 9, 1847). Many other pioneers similarly described this steep hill in their journals.
Using ropes that were tied on the back of our carts, we placed 2 individuals at the front of the handcart and then 4 individuals in the back to pull on the ropes. I donned my “working” gloves and placed myself at the back of the cart…it was quite a ride. The trail is just rocks…big rocks, little rocks and all of them slippery rocks when you can’t see where you are going. I was really afraid of falling and breaking an ankle…but as we reached the bottom of the hill, several young men turned and ran back up the hill to assist other handcarts as they came down. It was a scary, nerve wracking experience.
One of the big concerns for our group during trek was the weather forecast which predicted thunderstorms for all 3 days that we were supposed to be trekking. While it had been overcast most of the day, the wind seemed to be in our favor and blowing the storm away from us. But within just a few minutes, the wind shifted and suddenly we were smack in the middle of the biggest, wildest thunderstorm I have ever witnessed. It started to sprinkle and literally gave us about 5 minutes to cover the carts with tarps and grab our rain ponchos before the skies opened and it poured. The lightning and thunder were terrifyingly beautiful but we were ordered to crouch down by our handcarts to wait it out. Within just moments, rivers of water had overtaken the trail that had just moments before been hard dirt. I have never seen anything like it. I watched in wonder and complete amazement at the storm, completely naïve to the challenges it was about to present us. I just kept thinking how blessed I was to witness such an awesome display of nature and that I would never again in my life witness a thunderstorm on the plains of Wyoming. Someone eventually got out a huge tarp and several of us tried to crowd under it to wait out the storm. It stopped as quickly as it had begun but left behind strong currents of water on the trail and mud unlike anything I have ever seen. The mud was so slippery and deep that it was sucking our shoes in and covering the wheels of the handcart. It made just walking very treacherous. Our leaders made a quick change in the direction we were heading and instead of continuing over the hills, we headed straight down to a more central gravel road. But that “shortcut” was straight across sagebrush and prairie with no worn trail. We slopped through gobs of mud, jumped creeks that had appeared out of nowhere, and tried to keep from falling face first. When we finally reached the road, we were wet, muddy, and discouraged. The whole landscape had changed and we were slowly becoming aware of the challenges that would present.
We had reached Muddy Creek, which was now flowing pretty swift and strong. The bishop had us get our buckets to sit for a short devotional. He told the story of the Sweetwater Crossing and the miraculous service of 3 teenage boys who performed an act of service that saved the lives of so many handcart pioneers.
One of the handcart pioneers later remembered that some of the pioneers were able to ford the river, but others could not. At that point, several members of the rescue party—one account names C. Allen Huntington, Stephen W. Taylor, and teenagers David P. Kimball and George W. Grant—stepped forward to help. These courageous men "waded the river, helping the handcarts through and carrying the women and children and some of the weaker of the men over" (John Jaques, "Some Reminiscences," Salt Lake Daily Herald, 15 Dec. 1878, 1; see also 19 Jan. 1879, 1).
One of the women who was carried over the river later recalled: "Those poor brethren [were] in the water nearly all day. We wanted to thank them, but they would not listen to [us]. My dear mother felt in her heart to bless them for their kindness. She said, 'God bless you for taking me over this water and in such an awful, rough way.' [They said], 'Oh, ... I don't want any of that. You are welcome. We have come to help you.' " This sister also reported that one of the rescuers "stayed so long in the water that he had to be taken out and packed to camp, and he was a long time before he recovered, as he was chilled through. And in after life he was always afflicted with rheumatism" (Patience Loader Rozsa Archer, reminiscence, in Women's Voices: An Untold History of the Latter-day Saints, 18301900, ed. Kenneth W. Godfrey, Audrey M. Godfrey, and Jill Mulvay Derr [1982], 236;)These rescuers and what they had done were brought to President Young's attention. "When President Brigham Young heard of this heroic act," one writer stated, "he wept like a child, and declared that this act alone would immortalize them" (Solomon F. Kimball, "Our Pioneer Boys," Improvement Era, July 1908, 679).
Our ward company waited until the other companies had all crossed and then we loaded our handcarts and headed down to the river. The bishop had asked 3 of our older young men if they would be willing to carry individuals across the water. One young man carried his younger brother, and the 2 other young men carried young women. One boy returned to carry his sister across and the other boys came back to help carry other young women and push the handcarts. We stood in reverence on the bank of the river singing “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” and weeping openly. It was a very spiritual moment as we contemplated the many acts of service, both large and small, that were offered time and time again in behalf of others. Despite personal discomfort, illness, and suffering, these Saints literally and figuratively carried each other’s burdens across the plains. Instead of bringing out the worst in man, it brought out the best. For those 3 teenage boys that helped carry individuals across the frozen river that day, it was an act of sanctification that would ensure their salvation in the kingdom of God. It brought to mind the other instances in scripture where young men rose in courage and service of their God to bring salvation and redemption to their people…the 2,000 stripling warriors, Alma and the sons of Mosiah, Joseph Smith, Jr., Moses, etc. Never underestimate the strength of our youth. They are capable of doing hard things. They are capable of courage and determination beyond their years. And when we are instruments in the Lord’s hands, we are capable of anything.
After crossing the river, we continued along the muddy, wet trail a couple more miles until reaching camp for the night. Along this portion of the trail, we were humbled to see several graves that had been identified and marked. I was especially touched as I read the names on these graves for 2 of them were Saints that had joined the church in Denmark and died on the plains traveling to Zion. I have a very special place in my heart for the Danish Saints and the sacrifices they have made on behalf of the gospel of Jesus Christ. In the early days of the church, thousands were receptive to the gospel message and joined the church. They served faithfully in their villages and towns until the means could be acquired to immigrate to Utah. Often on my mission we were reminded of this first “gathering” and that there is a heritage in Denmark of the gospel. If such a faithful gathering could occur once, it can occur again. And miracles will continue to happen in that country because there continue to be such strong, faithful members who continue to sacrifice much in order to live the gospel.
We entered camp that night very wet, hungry and tired only to find that the area we were to stay the night had literally been made into a swamp by the afternoon’s rain shower. There were enormous puddles and little “lakes” all over the place. Boards were placed over some areas to help people navigate around the largest wet spots but these boards became very treacherous and slippery very quickly. As Becca and I were crossing one of these boards, I started laughing hysterically and couldn’t stop. The absurdity of how wet and muddy we were topped off with how gingerly we were picking our way across this swamp on a flimsy already submerged wood board as if we were afraid to soil what had already been soiled over a thousand times that day left me gasping for air in a laughing fit that finally landed me head first in the water…and even then I couldn’t get up because that made me laugh even harder. Falling in a swamp makes you really wet and stinky. It added a special layer of odor that I wore with pride the rest of the night.
We set about trying to set tents up and making our way across the swamps to get dinner. Right as we were finishing our meal, another dark, windy storm blew in and our company boss ordered everyone to their tents immediately with instructions to “batten down the hatches” and not come out until we received word it was safe. And what a storm it was! We had another torrential downpour accompanied by thunder and lightning that touched down in our camp. It was the most commanding sound I have ever heard…majestic, frightening, awesome…and the rain kept coming. When the storm had finally worn itself out, we cautiously emerged from our tents to see what the damage was. A couple of the tents the youth were in “flooded” from water seeping in under the ground coverings. Chris put his wet clothes back on and went out to fix the problems. Apparently many of the youth and leaders in the stake had a very wet, cold night as not only their gear that had been unloaded early that day but also their tents became soaking wet and flooded in the 2 storms that hit. One leader from another ward said one of their young men had gone to use the port a potty after the storm and ended up sleeping part of the night in there because it was warm and dry! Despite the wet, I slept very soundly that night, grateful for a semi-dry tent, a warm sleeping bag, and a chance to catch my breath. We were truly blessed!
“The Saints woke up to four inches of snow. It continued to snow all day. The company journal reported that the last of the food had been issued the night before, while Levi Savage reported that it was issued in the morning. It was the hard bread or crackers that President Willie had acquired at Fort Laramie. Due to the lack of food and the snowstorm, no effort was made to move from their camp at the Sixth Crossing of the Sweetwater River. They were out of food and had to hope and pray for the anticipated supplies.
As the Saints huddled together in a storm enduring their forced fast, they may have been encouraged by memories of other miracles. Ann Jewell Rowley’s family recalled that, on an earlier night, her ten family members had nothing to eat but “two hard sea rolls.” She needed God’s help to feed the ten people. She placed the sea rolls in a Dutch oven, covered them with water, and prayed. Later, when she took the lid off, the Dutch oven was “filled with food.” (Harvey H, Cluff, “Journal of Harvey H. Cluff, 1836–68,” L. Tom Perry Special Collections, Harold B. Lee Library, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah, 26–27. 2. “Ann Jewell Rowley” Daughters of Utah Pioneers Library, Salt Lake City, 7.)
John Chislett's First Hand Account
“In the morning the snow was over a foot deep. Our cattle strayed widely during the storm, and some of them died. But what was worse to us than all this was the fact that five persons of both sexes lay in the cold embrace of death. The pitiless storm and the extra march of the previous day had been too much for their wasted energies, and they had passed through the dark valley to the bright world beyond. We buried these five people in one grave, wrapped only in the clothing and bedding in which they died. We had no materials with which to make coffins, and even if we had, we could not have spared time to make them, for it required all the efforts of the healthy few who remained to perform the ordinary camp duties and to look after the sick—the number of whom increased daily on our hands, notwithstanding so many were dying.
“In the morning the snow was over a foot deep. Our cattle strayed widely during the storm, and some of them died. But what was worse to us than all this was the fact that five persons of both sexes lay in the cold embrace of death. The pitiless storm and the extra march of the previous day had been too much for their wasted energies, and they had passed through the dark valley to the bright world beyond. We buried these five people in one grave, wrapped only in the clothing and bedding in which they died. We had no materials with which to make coffins, and even if we had, we could not have spared time to make them, for it required all the efforts of the healthy few who remained to perform the ordinary camp duties and to look after the sick—the number of whom increased daily on our hands, notwithstanding so many were dying.
“We killed more cattle and issued the meat; but, eating it without bread, did not satisfy hunger, and to those who were suffering from dysentery it did more harm than good. This terrible disease increased rapidly amongst us during these three days, and several died from exhaustion. Before we renewed our journey the camp became so offensive and filthy that words would fail to describe its condition, and even common decency forbids the attempt. Suffice it to say that all the disgusting scenes which the reader might imagine would certainly not equal the terrible reality. It was enough to make the heavens weep. The recollection of it unmans me even now—those three days! During that time I visited the sick, the widows whose husbands died in serving them, and the aged who could not help themselves, to know for myself where to dispense the few articles that had been placed in my charge for distribution. Such craving hunger I never saw before, and may God in his mercy spare me the sight again.”
7 comments:
WOW. You had me crying actual tears reading that. Amazing. And then I laughed out loud at you all muddy. Literally from head to toe--you are an awesome leader and modern day pioneer. Love you.
It's Abby, but apparently, Waverly is signed onto my computer!!
Oh thank you for sharing!! What an amazing once in a lifetime experience. I am so glad you were able to go. What I wouldn't give to have you and Chris as my Ma and Pa for that. And with the quotes, a lovely devotional to start my day.
I love this! It was so great to hear the Youth Speak on Sunday about their experiences! The pictures are wonderful!
We were a Ma and Pa last year....It was only through this experience that I found out that the young Joseph Kirkwood who was lovingly carried by his 11 year old brother James Kirkwood to Rock Creek Hollow, and then laid him down and passed from this mortal life, are my great, great, great Uncles :) It was beyond description to be able to visit the grave where he is buried. SO HAPPY that you shared :)
Thanks for sharing. I was so jealous that we didn't get to go this time around. It was an amazing experience last time, but even cooler this time to do it with the youth as a ward unit. Awesome!
Your ancestors must be very proud of you. I am guessing Eliza Briggs is very happy that you have chosen to represent her. What an incredible experience and what a great account. I am so proud of my pioneer daughter! Can't wait for the next installment!
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